The one real thing
by Archerea
Summary: "And now it was just them. Rose and the Doctor, the Doctor and Rose. And he wasn't even real" This is my take on what happened to Rose and the Metacrisis Doctor after Bad Wolf Bay. I am sorry for any grammar - or spelling mistakes, I'll get around to fixing them as soon as possible. - HIATUS for the time being. I'm dealing with exams. please be patient with me.
1. Leaving the wolf behind

This is my idea of what happened to the metacrisis Doctor and Rose after the second visit to Dårlig Ulv Stranden, or Bad Wolf Bay. Me being a sucker for romance I'm going for something happy, yet with its fair amount of angst and trauma (which I've absolutely never tried writing before, so please be nice to me).

And clearly, none of the elements Doctor Who universe belong to me.

**Leaving the wolf behind**

And now it was just them. Rose and the Doctor, the Doctor and Rose. And he wasn't even real.

She stared into his eyes in a daze, only faintly registering as the last whirring of the Tardis died out and the beach was once again bathed in silence only interrupted by the waves licking against the coast and a soft wind touching her cheeks. The song of the time travelling blue box still lingered in her head, clinging desperately to her mind but slowly disappearing like sand running through the cracks between ones' fingers. Brown eyes, so familiar and yet so strange to her. How could he both be and not be _him _at the same time? Be the Doctor, but not. She tore her gaze away from his, it was too intense somehow, and shifted it to her shoes. She had subconsciously started rubbing her foot against the sand, making a mess of the smooth surface, creating chaos from calm, and it felt like something was snapping shut around her heart, like a wire, twisting and burning and unbearable. Fresh tears threatened to spill and she blinked them away harshly before anyone, and especially he, saw them. He. What was she supposed to call him? The Doctor? But if he was a human now, if he was to stay in Pete's world forever – then he couldn't be that, could he? Besides, it felt like betrayal towards the real Doctor – like the metacrisis would steal some of his identity. _Metacrisis. He's me. Committed genocide. D__angerous._ And she had been so close. So close to having everything she wanted. Months of hard work, of fighting and winning and losing and hoping – ended in this. Still stranded, still left behind. Alone.

"Are.." a very hesitant voice broke her reverie, careful, like was he afraid of breaking her by speaking to loudly, "Are you well?"  
She gently untwined their fingers, avoiding his eyes and his question, and instead said to her mother: "Did you call Pete?". She could hear her own voice shaking though she fought to keep it under control, and she hated it. She quickly glanced at him; he looked like a kicked puppy, and she flinched inwardly, but kept her back firmly to him as her mother spoke: "He's found us a cozy little hotel in the village nearby, booked us into a couple of rooms and transferred some Norwegian Crowns to my acco- "  
"But I want to go home" Rose insisted with a profuse shake of her head, "I can't.. I.." _The worst day of my life happened here, and now it is replaying itself_. "I need to get away from here. _Far _away"  
She could feel his presence as he went a little closer; the pressure of his hand against her sweatshirt's shoulder burned like fire and sent her heart racing, but she did not pull away, too tired to do anything but just _stand _there – between the stormy grey sky, the roaring ocean and the rocks beneath her feet, sharp pieces of a wolf's teeth. Ragged and dark and hurtful.

"I'm sorry, Sweetheart" Jackie said, casting worried looks between the two of them; her daughter, tense and fidgeting, and the new Doctor, utterly at a loss and looking like he was uncomfortable in his own body. "It's too late to travel now." She pointed to the darkened sky to indicate that nightfall was advancing by leaps and bounds. Rose's shoulders slumped slightly, but apart from the defeated posture she did not do anything in means of protesting. When her mother was sure that no argument would present itself she took out her cell in order to call for a cappie so they could be picked up and transported to the town.

The bitter taste of salt from the wind in the bay on her tongue made Rose cough, and the – the Doctor, for current lack of anything better – gently caressed her hair while regarding her with a worried look. "Is there anything I can do?"  
She shook her head, ready to turn away from him and go to her mother's side, but then thought better of it. It wasn't his fault, any of this. He had just done what had felt like the right thing and the given moment, and as the real – the other – Doctor had said; he'd been born and raised in battle, seeing blood and violence from the moment he first set foot outside the Tardis, and had had his survival instinct kick in. He had only wanted to protect those dear to him. Only a monster would blame him that basic need. "I don't know" she said, finally meeting his eyes with a tiny smile, which more resembled a grimace as she stepped out of his reach. His hand, with nothing to touch, fell limply to his side.

"I think I know what you need" he said, and an unsecure half-grin lit up his weary face for a moment. _Does he wonder if it is okay to smile?_  
"And what would that be?"  
"Chips." He said the word very softly, like was he standing with something fragile between his hands and he wouldn't want to crush it. Cradling a memory of a better day, of one of their first moments of unclouded happiness, of a time where everything was brand new and brilliant and where the sun was shining and where the Tardis was a mean for unlimited adventures and not for fighting horror and absorbing tears in its machinery.

And Rose found herself laughing. How could she not? It sounded so normal when he said it, such a both every day and outlandish thing and the shivering of her cold limbs lessened a little as she answered: "Okay"  
"Good?"  
"yeah"  
He smiled at her, a huge and genuine and hopeful smile, and she tried for a little joke, since she didn't want to be the one to remove that happiness from his face. "But I'm not quite sure Norwegian fish and chips are the same as English ones."  
"There'll probably be more fish than chips" he said, a mock-frown on his face, as they started following Jackie who had just finished her conversation and was waving for them to move along, "I don't think they eat anything else up here. Or no, I've heard the citizens drink more coffee combined than any other country on planet Earth". They were headed for a small dirt road which was twisting its way between the dunes. She hit him teasingly on the shoulder, "That's some prejudices you've got about the fine people of Norway, Doctor"  
"They are like aliens to me" he grinned at this comment, and also beamed inwardly about the fact that she was touching him again, although only to a limited degree. But then the expression stiffened slightly. "You called me Doctor".  
"Oh" she mused, biting her upper lip thoughtfully, trying to seem distracted by keeping track on her mother who was rushing along the road like a dog chasing a rabbit, "Yes. I did."  
"Would you rather not?"

The question took her by surprise, and she stopped dead in her track. She turned to look at him, taking in the worried anticipation he expressed, and slowly said "I don't know. I don't think so"  
"You could.." he took an extremely gentle hold of her elbow and beckoned her along. His other hand was buried deep in the pocket of his blue jacket; she could see his fingers moving against the fabric, and she was almost sure that he was stroking the small piece of Tardis coral in an attempt to calm himself. "You could give me another name. If it's.. Too much. I don't mind. Really"  
She tilted her head slightly and weighted the words in her head. He meant it. He would actually stop calling himself by his favorite alias if it made her uncomfortable. Something inside her swelled with warmth, perhaps her heart, and she wanted to embrace him and take his single beating heart into her hands and protect it from everything bad. It was only the constant pain that the departure of the Doctor had brought upon her that kept her from doing exactly that. Rose made up her mind.  
"It's okay. You're him, after all" she smiled at him, trying to convey without words how much his offer meant to her, "But you might need another name. Something to call yourself when in public. I've got no problem with Doctor, but people might ask questions"  
"You are probably right. It's not like we want to extract attention in our quiet and uneventful life, now do we?"

She giggled at this, stopped, realized that it felt good, and did it some more, surprised at how liberating it was. "So what will it be? John Smith?" she asked, only half-joking, and he laughed; a calm, quiet laugh that was so the Doctor. "You know me way too well, Rose Tyler. Could you get used to John, you think?"  
"Yea, but wouldn't that be just a tad too domestic for you? You might lose your suave timelord image" she teased and felt a new spring come into her steps as her eyes caught a flash of shining white – the generic paintjob of a local cap. The Doctor kicked up a pile of sand, making it rain onto the legs of their trousers like a tiny golden storm. "I can do domestic for you, Rose".

_I love you_. He'd said that and it all been good and fine and absolutely brilliant, and time was measured in sunlit days only as he stood so very close to her, breathing into her ear and brushing his nose ever so slightly against her throat, igniting the fragile skin. And now his eyes were telling her the same thing; that he'd always be there if she wanted him to, that he couldn't dream of leaving without taking her with him, that all adventures from now on would be together, and that she could finally call him "hers". She might not love him yet. Love for Rose was tainted with sorrow and coldness and uncertainty, and had become something dark and very painful in the years she had been without him. After their last meeting at this very beach, it had felt like her heart and ability to feel anything for other people had all but frozen. Rose had only just started truly warming up to Pete and little Tony when her brother was almost a year old, and then she had clung unto her tiny and broken but very brave family with all her might. She had stuck to them, and to Mickey and Jake as well, for dear life, knowing that the possibility that she could lose them if she took her eyes off of them for too long was very real. She depended on them like a flower was dependent on the sun, and loved them fiercely, but some part of it was a selfish love, originated from a justified fear of being left alone. It would be so easy for them to just up and disappear on her – the universe was, after all, limitless, and without her Doctor and the Tardis she would never have any hope of finding them again. So she kept on loving them in her own protective and egoistic way, while slowly forgetting how it was really supposed to be. Her affection was so cold and needy that she was almost ashamed of it. But maybe this man, this new Doctor, could set things right. Perhaps he could fix her and mend her polluted love.

She craned her neck slightly to look up at his face – he suddenly looked utterly exhausted, and though he tried to keep up a carefree pretence, his lips repeatedly set into a tight and grim line whenever he was not concentrating on smiling. He was thin, and though Rose was well aware that it was only her overactive imagination at work, it looked like his blue suit was a number too big for him and wrapped around his slim form like an enormous straightjacket. "Will you be okay?" she asked him quietly as they approached the car; Jackie was preoccupied with trying to communicate with the driver, who in return looked more frustrated by the minute. Rose understood him well; her mother could be quiet a handful, and cold and tired as she was, her mood seemed to have turned quite foul. "I'm fine" was his automatic response, and she promptly shook her head and set her jaw stubbornly in that characteristic determined Tyler-fashion that he was way too acquainted with, but still silently adored. "Don't give me that. You've not got a bit better at lying since… .Last time, and I'll give you hell to pay if you try to patronize me now."  
He chuckled and breathed out in a soft huff of relief, "Same old Rose, you are. That's magnificent"  
His world felt like a caress, and her cheekbones headed up in a deeply red blush of appreciation of his compliment, but she would not let him distract her. "This is not over, Mister" she said. She then smiled sweetly at the cappie as him and Jackie finally stopped their bickering, and the three of them settled into their seats, Rose in the middle and the Doctor right next to her.

Rose started feeling drowsy the moment her back connected with the comfortable and nice-smelling leather seat, but she pushed it away. She would not sleep and wake up to find out it had all just been an insane figment of her subconsciousness, something she had wanted so badly to be true that it became it in dreams. No, no sleep. Though she was very tired indeed… Jackie looked more than a little miffed as she slid down beside her daughter. She kept glaring daggers at the driver's neck through the glass-like material that separated the two parts of the cars. "Norwegians" she hissed as the engine roared to life.  
"Now, Jackie" the Doctor said, putting on a discrete reprimanding voice, "There's no need for that"  
"But them with their bloody talk, I could hardly understand a word of what 'e was sayin'!"  
"Mum!" Rose hushed, both because her mother's shrieking voice didn't do a thing for her growing headache, but also because she did not wish for an insulted cappie to throw them out of his vehicle. "He speaks English just fine, even if it is a little accented"  
"A little much"

The Doctor couldn't help smiling at this, and felt the need to add in on the conversation, "Your English is also accented. Very much, actually, you just down know it since you haven't seen it with an outsider's eyes"  
Now it was his turn to be on the receiving end of Jackie's reproachful stare. The Doctor, totally oblivious to the danger he was about to be in, continued, "Did you know that they teach English in the Scandinavian middle schools, starting when the kids are no more than 10 or eleven years old? Quite impressive, isn't it, considering that they also have their own language to keep track of aaand..". He noticed the warning in Rose's eyes and her silently mouthed "Stop" and did as commanded to for once. Not a moment too soon, it seemed, cos Jackie looked about ready to explode. Though she loved to listen to the Doctor rattling off random trivia, Rose was more interested in avoiding the oncoming storm that was her mother.  
She leaned in and squeezed her Jackie's shoulders tenderly as she soothingly, like was she talking to a child that required calming, said "You just need to sit down in a nice hotel with a good warm cuppa, Mum. Then tomorrow Dad will fly right over in his jet and pick us up. Surely he'll bring Tony as well; you know how he likes flying"  
That cheered Jackie up, and her eyes shone by the mention of her youngest child. "Yeah. That'll be nice. I've missed them."  
"Me too" Rose said and smiled, then looked at her Doctor with a smile that said that the statement was meant for him as well. To her joy he mimicked her expression, and for just a second he was his old self; a little foxy, gorgeous hair and radiant like all the suns in the universe. _God, I'm smitten_ she thought, her head reeling at the possibility that her feelings for him, which had been buried close to the surface for so long, were returning, forceful and overwhelming. She pushed the notion away harshly, and turned towards the window so she did not have to participate in any sort of conversation. Hopefully the Doctor and her mother would think she had fallen asleep to the motions of the car and leave her in peace.

Thankfully they did, and listening to the noise of their hushed chatter Rose absentmindedly observed the dunes and great big stones turning into grassy hills littered harmoniously with grazing cattle. Relaxing to the view of the relatively monotone landscape racing by, her thoughts started to wander into a realm of dreams which she for once welcomed after only a little struggle. Soon her frown disappeared and her breathing quieted. Rose Tyler was soundly asleep.


	2. The shattering of something better

**The shattering of something better**

"Rose. Rose, wake up"

_"Am I ever going to see you again?" those blasted tears made it so hard to see his face, to keep him close for as long as possible. Everything blurred together __in front of her vision, and her eyes burned and she couldn't reach him or touch him or embrace him and everything was horrible.__  
__"You can't"__  
__  
_"You've got to wake up now"

_Two words that made her fragile world shatter, fall to pieces around her in a glistening drizzle of wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff and fragments of a life that was better than most. "What are you going to do?"  
At least she was not the only one who looked completely worn to a frazzle. The ghostly image he was transmitting from the Tardis had red eyes as well, and his voice cracked audibly at his answer: "I've got the Tardis. Same old life. The last of the Time Lords". And it was such a sad smile to accompany such sad words._

"It's just a bad dream, it's not real. Jackie, she's.."

_"I..I love y__ou"__  
__"Quite right too. And I suppose… If it's my last chance to say it… Rose Tyler…"_

"Rose!"

She struggled her way out of the nightmarish memory like fighting to release herself from a place solely consisting of murky, ice cold water that tried to pull her under its surface. Sitting up straight at the call of her name she forced open her eyes – the lids felt disgusting and clammy and almost refused to obey her – and stared straight into the anxious faces of the two people in all of the universes that she held dearest in her heart and mind. Her mother's frown turned into an immensely relieved little grin as she threw her arms around her oldest child. "Goodness gracious, you had me worried there, Sweetheart! All flaying and movin' about! Are you okay?"

Rose just looked completely flabbergasted as she tried to sort out the chaos in her head and find a lost piece of sense in the thick syrupy substance of her dream-world. "I.. I don't know. I think so."  
"You are crying" the Doctor's voice announced. It made her flinch a bit – he sounded somehow drained. He had moved away from her side and was standing by the window, looking at her out the corner of his eye and seeming ready to bolt for the exit depending on what her reply would be. Tentatively she touched her cheek and true enough, she was really crying. Huge, earnest tears made shining tracks against her skin, and she couldn't seem to stop – they kept coming in an endless stream of hurt that felt way too real to belong to a dream which only existed in her soul. Such a vivid moment. Could she never get rid of that memory – would it continue to haunt her forever, even now, when she had the other Doctor with her. So close, yet slipping away, and she was gripped by a nameless fear that made her look to him for comfort. She couldn't let him disappear. Not again. She needed him close, cos she was that selfish.

Rose looked down at the heavy bedspread covering her legs; it was a cheery yellow with a big pink flower print, clearly homemade and looking very cozy. The room and the furniture were kept in deep, brown colors, giving the place a homey feel and making her long for London. Her mother must have seen her confused look, cos she quickly explained, "We're at the hotel. You fell asleep in the car, and the Doctor carried you up here." She smiled and touched her child's hand gently, "The kitchen serve dinner in the downstairs restaurant if you're hungry"  
"I'm famished" Rose said, though she felt like her stomach was carved in stone and the simple thought of eating anything made her a little queasy. But she didn't want to disappoint Jackie; she deserved to get some sort of normalcy back, and if she could do so by coddling and fussing in true mother-style, Rose would let her. She said "Tell you what, Mum, you just go down there and get a drink. We'll be right there with you"  
She sought the Doctor's eye to make him confirm that he would stay, and he gave a short, weary nod, still looking anywhere but directly at her.

If Jackie noticed the tenseness floating in the air between the two of them, she did not let it on. She just gave Rose's hand a squeeze and left the room without further ado, the door closing silently behind her. Rose's gaze flickered nervously to her hands, which lay entwined in her lap. Though only she and the Doctor were left, the room felt crowded and strangling. She could hear him breathing; sharp, labored huffs of air – like he was trying his best to keep anger or frustration under control, and would be succeeding if not for the way in which his own body betrayed him. There was a chance that if she waited for long enough, he would tell her what was bothering him and the mood would hopefully lighten, but the Doctor, regular or metacrisis, could be way too much of a gentleman to do so. So she asked very softly, while wiping at the tears, "What is it that bothers you?"

His whole body stiffened for a moment. He stood by the window, a dark silhouette against the warm light of the street lamp outside, a sharp contrast between light and shadows, between him and the rest of the world. His voice was eerily calm, contradicting his jerking and uncomfortable movements as he sat at the end of the bed, making the madras tip down beneath his weight: "You cried. And called _his_ name."  
"It's your name as well" she said, but he simply shook his head.  
"Not this time, it wasn't"

He looked (relatively) in control now, but in his eyes she saw something shattered, and she felt a rush running through her, a tidal wave of both guilt and compassion. How did she manage to hurt him like this without even meaning to?  
"I.. I'm sorry. Are you cross with me?". A drop of salty liquid dripped from her nose and onto her bottom lip, and she licked the tear away with a subconscious move of her tongue. He stared at the movement with an almost transfixed fascination. Seemingly he still remembered her habit of pushing the tip of her tongue almost sensually between her teeth, and she inwardly relished in the fact that he had not forgotten this small quirk of hers.

"It's not your fault. I could never be angry at you, Rose.. I just wish.." he locked his eyes with hers and carefully reached out to touch her cheek, to slide his fingers across the rosy skin beneath them like Jackie had done before – but this felt so different, like a fire was burning against her face, flames of passion and gentleness, always in their truest form when coming from him. Without thinking she leaned into his palm, seeking out the pleasant warm that seemed to radiate from every ounce of him. His smell mesmerized her, wafting across her nostrils in a familiar way – he smelled earthy and of blue well-kept wood and faintly metallic mechanics. It wrapped itself around her like a comforting embrace with promises of safety and peace. His expression was solemn, like was he carrying the burden of existence on his shoulders and only he knew how exhausting and consuming it was, "I wish he - I would stop doing things that only make you hurt"

"Doctor – " she started, the word said in a voice so hoarse she hardly recognized it as her own, but he silenced her by placing the tip of a finger to her lips. To think that such a simple connection, such a small show of affection, could make her heart soar like that and awaken a blistering and insanely bright sensation inside of her… He was so close, and for a moment the memories and that which was now meshed, blended together and fit, and this man was the Doctor, _her _ Doctor, and not just a phantom like her consciousness tried to tell her. "I want you to be happy" he said, gently brushing her tearstained face, "I want to make you happy". He hesitated, biting his lip in an insecure motion and then, in a fit of bravado, said "I want it to be me who makes you smile."

And he was, cos Rose was smiling through the snotty crying and stopped rubbing at her eye, foregone it to instead take his hands in hers. She squeezed them in a silent gesture of acceptance, one she did not yet dare to voice aloud, but which she hoped he understood anyway. "Should we get some dinner, or are you just leaving me to starve?" she asked with something close to a grin and which did almost not feel forced at all. She was also almost capable of ignoring the small pang of betrayal that was worming itself around inside her, twisting and drilling angrily like an awl of ice, reminding her of what she was doing and screaming at her for even daring to forget and replace _him_. It was like a dull arch which would never leave her.

"I could go get some for you if you want and bring it up here" he offered, studying her face with a real doctor's expertise, "You don't look well"  
"You don't either" she shot right back at him, but felt her whole body shiver with the crazy emotions creating havoc and clamping down on her like a fist. At least the tears had stopped, but now her face felt disgusting and sticky.  
The doctor shrugged, while subconsciously rubbing her left hand's knuckles with his thump in soothing circles. "You know what they say. Doctors are the worst patients, right?"  
"Yeah" she untangled herself from the duvet and swung her legs over the side of the bed; she noticed with great relief that they had not tried to undress her before putting her in the bed – she was not sure if she was ready for the meta-doctor to see her in that sort of state. "I'll just… Freshen up a bit. Grab a bath. You just go join my mother"

"No" he shook his head very heftily and with eyes open wide in panic – that couldn't be right, could it? She'd never seen the usually so steady Doctor leaning on the panic button for such a trivial matter. He looked downright frantic. But then again, this Doctor did not have conditions which the other one had had. Created in battle he seemed to be always alert, a little jumpy, and afraid that the only fixed elements in his new and unbalanced life would out on him. Rose knew she couldn't ask him to leave. It sort of hurt to look at him, but it also hurt _not_ to. "I'd rather wait for you" he said.  
"Then stay. I'll be quick". She stood and observed as he pulled his long dangly legs onto the madras, sprawling himself across the bed like a giant ragdoll with a "whoosh" of air escaping his lips and eyes closing in temporary contentment. "Take your time" he informed her pleasantly.

Rose made her way to the to the small generic hotel bathroom. Though tiny, it had the necessaries, namely a bottle of shampoo, towels and a cake of soap. She donned the clothes on the floor with the slightly dim thought that she would have to wear them again since she was lacking a spare set, and stepped into the shower. She stood underneath the wonderfully warm stream of water for a whole ten minutes, just soaking in the sensation and letting the hot water massage remove the tenseness from her sore muscles. After having rubbed the shampoo into her scalp and rinsed it out of her blonde tresses she felt remarkably more relaxed. She dried herself off in the towel, put on her trousers, top and sweatshirt, then took a moment to stare at her own reflection in the fogged-over glass of the mirror. The person looking back at her should have surprised her, but she really did not; dark bags under dull eyes which were usually so bright, soaked blonde hair framing her cheeks and making her look both thin and pathetically exhausted and a few scratches on her skin bearing witness of what she had been through. This worn out and jaded Rose was so different from who she had been just a couple of years ago – careless and free, a nineteen year old British girl who waltzed around in her own closed-in world, shopping and sleeping in and working in a shop as an invisible part of the staff where no one knew the other employers' names. Until a blue box landed in London, motors whirring and promising timey-wimey adventures exceeding all of her wildest fantasies. Until the dummies started moving and shooting at the citizens. Until this alien man, this good and brilliant man, with two hearts of figurative gold had dropped out of nothing and with an ecstatic expression had called out to her "run!" (the first word he ever said to her, and she still remembered how he had looked and how the adrenalin had rushed through her like wildfire, unknown in its form, but welcomed nonetheless). And she ran without a moment's hesitation, following a stranger's lead blindly, because from the second she laid eyes on him she knew that he deserved and could handle both her trust and her loyalty.

He had pulled her into his world(s), universe(s) and reality(-ies) headfirst, ripping her apart at the seams, then putting her back together with a smile that eventually reached his eyes, with his warm hand in hers – never leaving her, never letting her go - and with his hilarious insistence that "My people don't look like people from Earth, it's humans that look Gallifreyan". Without knowing it she had started living solely for the purpose of making him laugh and for his (and soon to be hers) endless craving for exploring, for traveling, for fleeing from the past that constantly haunted him and caused him so many sleepless night. His influence and presence and expectations had fractured her, shattered her to pieces, broken her, but in the most wonderful way possible. Turned her into a soldier and a paranoid wreck, shown her how beautiful and horrible _everything_ could be… And she had loved every last second of it.

Realizing that she had been drifting off in her own memories she hastily combed her fingers through her hair in a fruitless attempt to straighten it out, pushed open the tiny window by the roof to let out the steam, and then made her exit through the door separating the main room and the toilet. "Doctor, I'm ready to – "  
She looked at him and her words withered and died on her tongue, leaving her stunned into silence. There on the bed laid the Doctor all right, but she had never expected to find him having fallen asleep atop the flower adorned bedspread. A sort of contentment quickly replaced the feeling of disbelief, and she tilted her head and smiled softly. Perhaps she ought to let him sleep. Clearly the strain of having only one heart and a whole mess of weird human emotions had taken a toll on him. She could just leave him be, let him get much-needed rest, but she remembered the look in his eyes before when she had suggested he went downstairs. A quick flash of panic had seemed to color the brown irises even darker, shadowed with fear. Rose considered her options – she could stay with him, but if she did not meet up with Jackie her mother would be worried. So she settled for waking the Doctor, though it was against her better judgment.

Not knowing how a sleeping metacrisis-Doctor would react to being awakened by touching, she avoided just that and instead leaned in as close she could without making him uncomfortable. The other Doctor had not had anything against a lot of hugging and friendly shoulder pads to bring him back from dreamland, but the two of them had already proven different on several points, and she did not want to possibly startle him. "I'm done with my shower, Doctor."  
Nothing happened. The Doctor remained obliviously sleeping even as she said his name thrice, raising her voice a little each time. Rose sighed in mock annoyance and said "You're just like Mickey, you are. Heavy sleeper and probably also a B-person". She thought of her previous best friend and boyfriend with both fondness and sadness following her memories of him. Sweet, calm and kind Mickey. Fierce, headstrong and steadfast Mickey. In another world, his own, original world. And he was not trapped there, as Rose herself had been in Pete's world. The choice to leave with Martha and Jack had been entirely his, and he had chosen what he thought was right. Unfortunately, that meant it was time to say goodbye, and though Rose only wished him (as well as Martha, Donna and Jack) the best in life, it didn't stop the hurting. A silent tear slid down her face, and she quickly rubbed it away as she saw the Doctor starting to stir. Goodness, what was it with all the crying?

Soon the Doctor's eyes opened and quickly turned sharp and focused as he studied the girl standing over him. Rose hoped to God he did not see the way her eyes had turned red. A brief spark of recognition showed that he clearly had noticed, but thankfully he did not mention it. Instead he stretched in exuberant contentment like an enormous cat and grinned at her. "Must have fallen asleep"  
"Yeah" she mimicked the expression, forcing herself into a more cheerful mode, "Must've. Now, should we?"  
"Si"  
"So what, you're Spanish now?"  
"Si, Amiga. Forgot I speak over 5 billion languages?" he jumped from the bed like a clown from its box and waltzed out the door with a blink at her over his shoulder, "I can be whatever I want".

Rose smirked as she took a last look at the brightly coloured bedspread. A memory, gentle and safe, swept across her mind like a wave would do it across a sandy surface, and she embraced it and marveled at the comfort it brought her.  
_  
__They had been running all day from some sort of aliens – she'd forgotten their name by evening, which the Doctor would not have approved of, but it was so hard remembering the titles of every species they encountered – and had finally arrived back at the __Tardis an hour ago, seeking solace from the rebellion that they may or may not have started on the planet of Farsh. Covered in blue-ish goo (who knew that the locals' defense system consisted of shooting slime at the opponents?) Rose had self-consciously f__led to her room where she had showered and changed into her nightwear, a very pink and very fluffy number. She did not bother brushing her hair, so the blonde strands stood on ends in a horrible mess as she returned to the control room, where the Doctor, s__till with goo plastered all over his brown suit and with the stuff sticking his bangs to his forehead, was pulling some at some levers with almost animated glee. Careful not to disturb him she slid down the wall to sit at the floor and rested her chin atop__ her knees. For a moment he was solely focused on the control panel, then he pushed one of the bottoms with a flourish and ran to her side. Pointing at her pajamas he announced with a smile so genuinely sweet that a warmth rushed through her, "You look lik__e a baby chick in that.. Fluffiness"__  
__"I do _not._ At least _I_ am clean" she said and stuck out her tongue at him in a childish gesture, which he just grinned at as he affectionately ruffled up her hair. "Rose Tyler" he said, pleasant dark eyes softening, "My __Rose Tyler, all pink and yellow"_

This scene still appeared so fresh and vivid in Rose's memory; having called it to the surface like this made the feelings and sensations from back then sweep over her like caresses, stowed away in favor of more important things, but never forgotten. They joy she had felt, the annoyance at being compared to poultry and the slightest touch of delight as he granted her with that crooked smile, the one reserved only for her, his Rose-smile. The telltale whirring of the Police Box in her ears like a soothing murmur and the not-enough-to-be-alarming smell of burnt metal coming from the control panel. Rose closed her eyes. She remembered everything.

The door burst open and the new Doctor popped his head in, exclaiming "Rose, don't dawdle! I have been dying to taste Norwegian cuisine since forever!"  
She smiled at him, pushed the uneasy and too cruel thought of _You haven't got a "forever", you were born this morning__from a hand and a human_ in the background and exit the room.


	3. The brilliantly mundane

**The brilliantly mundane.**

"You've _go_tto be flippin' kiddin' me" Jackie said, staring accusingly at the cheerfully green vehicle before stubbornly announcing, "I am _not_ traveling in that thing!"  
"Mum!" Rose said, cheeks growing red with embarrassment as more people whisperingly gathered to watch the English lady creating a scene, "It's just a bus. Public transportation! You used to do it all the time! And if we wanna get to Bergen, this is the fastest way to go about it". She looked to the Doctor in hope of assistance in calming Jackie down, but he seemed to be enjoying the whole thing way too much, if the smile was of any indication. "I am so glad you find this amusing" She hissed and sent him a blistering glare, then turned to her mother as the woman who was behaving so childishly immature pointed out "Yes, but that was _before_ I married a multimillionaire! One should think I would be able to get a helicopter or something! Or what about that jet you talked about?"  
Rose shook her head in despair, "Look, we talked about this at breakfast. There's no room for a helicopter or an airplane to land in this town."  
"Couldn't he have sent a car, then?" Jackie retorted.  
"He has, it will pick us up in Bergen and drive us to the nearest airport. A bus, Mum, you've got to be able to handle fifty miles in a bus!"  
Her mother's mouth set into a tight line before he directed her line of assault at the Doctor, "You! Haven't you got one of them blue boxes like the other one has?"

By now the Doctor looked about ready to buckle over with laughter, and he was not very subtle in his trying to hide it (unlike the locals, who made an impressive picture of nearly total stoicism). "You mean this?" he pulled up the tiny Tardis coral from his pocket fluff and waved it before her face, "It won't be ready for another couple of years, if Donna's calculations fit – unless, Rose, we went back in time with some help from one of those Torchwood devices, planted it somewhere we could find it, traveled back to the future and that place and – nono, no throwing around the Tardis Junior, Jackie!"

Rose snickered but pitied the Doctor and carefully freed the coral from her mother's a little too careless grip to place it safely back in his hand. Couldn't have her mother smashing their only hope of once again getting to travel in time and space during a temper tantrum. Rose took her Jackie's hand and said discretely, "Do you remember the thing you say about some people being all "Airs and graces"?, Mrs. Millionaire?"  
This question thankfully made Jackie's anger deflate like a balloon animal when she realized the ruckus her behavior had started, and as she straightened her back into a more fitting posture she smiled warmly at the humans. In a much more humble way she entered the bus with Rose and the Doctor close behind. After an almost nonexistent amount of trouble with paying with this nationality's currency they climbed into three empty seats, and Rose was for once thankful that she did not have any luggage with her to take up space. The bus already appeared to be pretty crowded, so the three of them had to squeeze together tightly, Rose and the Doctor in one double seat, and a terrified Jackie and a sweet looking middle-aged Norwegian woman in another. As the bus set into motion and left the small charming town they had spent the night in, Rose was satisfied to see that the woman had quickly succeeded in urging her mother out of her box and into a conversation about the contents of her shopping basket and pie recipes spoken in slow and steady English which allowed Jackie to both understand the accented speech and relax further into the cushion. Rose herself leaned back in her seat – it was quite comfy, actually, and sitting by the aisle near the back of the bus she could keep track of all the passengers, as well as be almost bombarded with all sorts of impressions to both her nose and ears. The foreign Scandinavian language flickered feather lightly against the shell of her ear, and in her daze it sounded sort of like they were singing instead of speaking regularly.

"Sounds swell, doesn't it?"  
Rose very nearly jumped out of the spot in shock, having totally forgotten the man sitting beside her - Pinstriped suit, tie, red sneakers and all. How could she do that when he was so close and so.. So him, Rose wondered. He raised an eyebrow patiently, and she realized that she had not answered his question. "It does, yeah. Kind of melodically. Does that sound silly?"  
"Yes, but good silly, not bad silly" the Doctor smiled serenely, his eyes watching the people with fascination, "I love learning. About people, about tradition and culture and food made of pickled stuff". He added before turning in his seat to look at her, studying her just like he had done the others, but paying her much more exclusive attention, "I never stop learning"

Rose swallowed a little too loudly. This was not good. "You've had some years to gather all that information, one might say."  
"Indeed"  
"900 years, was it?" she asked, crooking her head slightly to see him from a different angle – the way the sun shone in his hair, making it gleam in a rich chestnut colour and the one in which the lashes surrounding his eyes, those eyes that never strayed from their target and always shone with emotions, seemed longer and perhaps even elegant.  
The smile disappeared, but his voice didn't waver at all as he gazed at her and quietly, making sure Jackie did not overhear them (not that she would, being as she was way to engrossed in her enquiry about Susanne's famous Krumkake), "900 years perhaps, to learn about the universes, but not enough to know you, Rose. I need many more for that"  
His words utterly disarmed her; for the first time in God knows how long she had no idea what to say, how to react properly. So she did the only thing that felt natural, even though alarm signals were going off somewhere in her head, and touched his arm. "Well…" she slowly said, biting her lip, "When I was six I wanted to be a circus princess. The one who rode the pretty horses and made them do tricks."  
The Doctor raised an eyebrow at her questioningly, but instead of saying anything he just settled into a more comfortable position on his bus seat and put on the expression of an attentive listener.

Breathing deeply she kept on talking as not to get cold feet, blurting out random trivia once it came to mind: "Pete enrolled me in high school, so I did my A-levels in this world, since I never got to in my old one 'cos of that Jimmy Stone. Stupid girl I was" Her lips curved into a little grin at the thought, "I want to be at university, perhaps study something with international diplomacy, when we return to London. I learned to use guns last year, when Mum decided I needed a hobby besides Torchwood. Pete's bodyguards taught me. I also do archery. Or well, I _try_ to do archery. I'm not that good yet."  
He laughed at this, "Good call with the shooting, though, you were always brilliant with the firearms, I recall." He waved his hand eagerly, beckoning her to continue and hardly noticing when the front wheels of the bus met a bump in the road and all the passengers were nearly thrown into the row in front of them. Rose clung to her seat during the uneven passage of road, and then did as "told". "My hair once caught fire when I was roasting marshmallows in the park with Mickey. Mother had to cut off large chumps of it. She gave up on resurrecting it, though, and just shaved it all off – I didn't dare set a foot outside the house without a cap for almost two months, it was terrible". She spoke more freely now, having forgotten to focus on whether he was bored with her talking or not, cos every ounce of her, every fibre of her being, somehow knew that the Doctor would never tire of her. Many of the thoughts she had been thinking about her future, of the hopes for a better life she had been daring to nurse – they all tumbled out between her lips in a liberating bundle. Everyone in the bus except for the Doctor and herself faded away and became just a faint buzzing in the background. She talked, and he seemed more than content with commenting on everything she said, adding input where he felt it was needed, voicing his own thoughts and matching them with hers.

"So, what about you? What would you like to do now?" she asked him hesitantly. He smiled brightly, and together, to the monotone sound of rain drumming against the windows, they spun an optimal future, a perfect one. Of course it was just words, but for now that was fine, and they were fine. They did not touch the subject of the two of them and any relationship they might have, but rather they spoke about their separate wishes and ideas of what life could bring them. Rose was more than a little delighted to discover that the Doctor was downright bursting with excitement about the prospects of all the things he could do and try out now that he was human ("Though I'll never _be_ an ape" he told her very calmly, "My mind is of course too superior").

"There are so many mundane things, Rose" he exclaimed, "Like – ooh, just look at that beauty!" he pointed at something they passed by, looking like a child who had received his Christmas presents a day early, then returned to the topic, eyes lit with joy, "Like... Easter!". They had by now almost reached the outskirts of Bergen. The trip had of course taken longer than it would in a normal car since they had to drop off people at stops every now and again.  
"Easter" Rose repeated, not quite believing her own ears – of all the wonders of humanity, he choose to be fascinated with a holiday that was largely about chocolate eggs, chickens and almost a week of extended spring break from work, school and the like. "Yes, Easter" he nodded gleefully, "Did you know that the Danes have a tradition of sending each other letters with a snowdrop in them, and then the receiver is asked to guess who the sender is with the help from a number of dots resembling the letters in ones' name? Or that the Easter bunny in America is like an equivalent of Santa Claus, giving presents often consisting of chocolaty goodness?"  
Rose chuckled, "But you've never actually celebrated Easter on earth? Who would have known, I thought you would have indulged in all of our global traditions"  
"I _did_ try out Hanukkah once, but it didn't work for me"  
"Not Jewish enough?" she asked with a frown barely concealing her smile.  
"Yes, that's probably it"

He usually dropped down to her planet on Christmas. It had been like that for all the time they had known each other, and never on good occasions. Always some kind of trouble with Christmas in London; gun wielding Santas, alien invasions and enormous cruise liners very nearly crashing into Buckingham Palace. Not that she had been witness to the last one, but Donna had told her about it, shaking her head with a fond smile and muttering "stupid spaceman" in regular intervals. No wonder the good people of England's capital city decided to stay inside on the 24th of December. Except of course for Donna's grandfather, but that man had nerves of steel and an overall impressive amount of patriotism. Clearly Donna took after Wilfred; feisty, compassionate and sharp-tongued. And all those traits, all those things that made Donna Temple-Noble who she was, were everything that had shaped her into "the most important woman in all of creation" as the original Doctor had put it. She hated Christmas, Donna did, and sometimes Rose did as well. Awful thing happened at Christmas.

_"Do you think Harriet will be alright?" she asked the Doctor as they entered the Tardis, chewing the delicate skin of her bottom lip anxio__usly, "she looked completely out of sorts. What _did_ you say to that secretary person of hers?"__  
__The Doctor did not turn towards her to answer her question. He was leaning over the hexagonal console with his back to her, hiding his facial expression, but not__ the tense shaking of his shoulders. He was barely __able to keep his anger at bay. "Nothing of importance" he said, voice pained in a way she had only heard few times during their travels together, "Your precious prime minister only got what served her righ__t"__  
__Rose froze and stared at him in shock – the hatefulness in his words were palpable in the sudden quiet of the control room. Even the Tardis had stopped making her familiar homey noises, like was she holding her breath, waiting for something inevitable t__o happen. "You don't mean that" his companion said, trying to appear steady, but in reality Rose was shell-shocked by his harsh tone.__  
__He finally turned on the spot to face her, eyes darkened with pure resentment, "I. Mean. Everything. I. Say." He spat out __coldly, "You saw what she did. She and this horrid Torchwood organization. Where is the famous "humane compassion" now, Rose Tyler?"__  
__Something burned behind her lids, making her eyes water, but she refused to appear like his behaviour had affected her. She__ said, "You always see the worst, don't you?" the volume of her voice rose to shouting as she felt her carefully established control slipping away, "She wanted to help, she wanted to protect her people! Who are you, who destroyed your home and slaughtered __your entire race, to judge her? How dare you think you can decide what is right or wrong, when you are not any better than her?". Then she couldn't help it anymore; Rose cried – Big, heaving sobs for his bitterness and the cruelty which had reared its ugly__ head and made Harriet its victim. For this man who was not _her_ Doctor, but him nonetheless – just one she would rather be without. A time lord of the past. _

_This let to one of their very first real serious fights. It had been nasty and unpleasant. His cheeks were burning red and his glasses were askew; she was pale, all colour drained from her face with the realisation that they were actually doing this, crossing all sorts of lines with what they said (and what they didn't). Curses and verbal lashes rained down upon them like shards of ice, and the Tardis was trembling, nervous and confused, falling through space with no one to guide her, no one to care, fuelled by the angered energy building up in the core of her being. After what felt like hours of cutting lose on all sorts of pent-up emotions, of yelling and name-calling and targeting of sore spots, they stormed off to their separate rooms. The Tardis had rearranged her inside structure, moving their personal spaces as far away from the other's as she deemed safe without making it impossible for them to navigate the spaceship._

_Rose laid in her bed, fuming and hitting the pillows with clenched fists and biting into her knuckles to prevent herself from screaming in frustration. He had been horrible, obnoxious and unfair. But so had she, and Rose was well aware of that, though she was loath to admit it. So about an hour later, once she had cooled down enough to be sure that she would not start shouting abuse again, she went out to find him. Took some time, but at last she heard a splashing noise from the swimming pool and went there. He was standing on top of the diving-board with arms spread out to the side like a bird about to take flight – still wearing all his clothes, mind you – and did not seem to have noticed her as he flung himself of the board, soaring through the air, a huge dark shadow against the clean white glow of the roof lamps. He hit the water in a not-so-elegant belly flop, breath rushing from his lung painfully in a loud whooshing noise. Rose called his name, worry colouring her features, and fell to her knees by the basin, frantically searching the blurred water for her best friend. Immensely relived when he broke the surface and clung to the cold edge, she reached for his hand, closing her fingers around his. _

_Without letting go of her, the Doctor raised himself out of the pool, looking both forlorn and dazed, like he couldn't quite believe what he was doing there. He looked at her with those huge eyes of his, silently regarding her while squeezing her hand tightly. Knowing that he wanted to touch her, but did not want to anger her like before, Rose took the initiative and pulled him close by their entwined hands. Her clothes became soaked in an instant, but she didn't care as he started to whisper words and phrases against her hair – all in Gallifreyan, she recognized the sound and accent – murmurs of apologies and pleas for forgiveness. She just nodded against him, accepting everything, and in return coughed up past a very sore throat "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Didn't mean it, I didn't". They clutched at each other's clothes, tightening the embrace, and their reflection in the water showed a mirror image of tentative peace._

_That was the end of it. They did not talk about what had happened, and __over time the wound healed and became a scar, patched itself up when the Doctor started to understand and forgive Harriet Jones, Prime minister, who everyone _of course _knew, and Earth Defender. He was a little human, after all._

All the moments she remembered had _him_ in them, not the man besides her. Could she ever make such memories with this Doctor, sad and beautiful and unforgettable memories? Some part of her, the stubbornly loyal part kept insisting that, no, she could not, but the rest… He looked the same, he acted the same and he smiled in the same breath-taking way as the original one. Their personalities also resembled each other, the circumstances taken into consideration, all the best qualities seemingly still there in the second Doctor. And he still watched over her and looked at her like she outshone all the stars in the universe, and the first Doctor had told her when she said that Metacrisis wasn't him, _"He needs you. That's very me_".

Oh, the suspense, it was killing her. Rose rolled her eyes at her own ambivalent state – she would have to get a grip, since she did not want the employees at Torchwood on Parallel Earth (yes, she still thought of it that way) to think that she had become some sort of emotional wreck on her trip to save the universes from collapsing. Well, maybe they would deem it acceptable for her to be a little freaked out about that. She might also have to convince this Doctor that Torchwood in Pete's World weren't bad guys, since he seemed more than a little on edge with the whole organisation and might be in need of convincing.

"Kids, are you going to sit here all day?" Jackie's shrill voice pulled her back to reality as she realized that the bus had come to a halt by what apparently was to bus station, and all their fellow passengers were abandoning their seats in order to move for the door. She nodded to her mother who, along with the woman named Susanne, went ahead of them, and then poked her companion in the belly, which he did not react to. He had been staring absentmindedly out the window for a couple of minutes, deep in thought since their talk about the wonders of Easter. She knew that he would snap out of it as soon as she said his name, but she wanted to try out the whole idea with a possible human alias – he would hopefully react, having been donning that name before and all.

"John?" she said hesitantly, "John, we're here, it's time to go". Nothing happened for a few long seconds and then it seemed like a light of awareness went on in his eyes and he nodded slowly before replying: "Yes?"  
She sighed exasperated under her breath, "It feels weird"  
"But could you get used to it?" he asked.  
"Could _you_?" Rose counter questioned, worried by his expression – tired, despaired, _human_.  
Another nod, though not with the conviction she was hoping for. "I use it all the time, remember?" he said, starting to make his way out of his seat as Rose moved into the aisle to give him room, "When I travelled with Martha I went with it for a long time to hide my timelord trace from the Family of Blood – granted, I didn't know that I weren't John Smith at that time, but it has got to count for something, right?"  
She sent the chauffeur a small, thankful smile and then scaled the few steps taking her out of the vehicle. Once they were standing outside and stretching the muscles in their arms and legs, which had gotten a little cramped after sitting still for so long, she agreed to what he had said; "Right. You're right. If you want me to I can start calling you John. Period. I could convince my family to do it as well". Yeah, as if she could ever get used to that – Pete respected the Doctor persona way too much to settle for him being a normal human. Or not _normal_. Never normal.  
He clearly understood what her thoughts really were on that suggestion, so he shook his head and smiled softly. "That's okay. I'll figure something out, I am the Doctor, after all"  
She giggled into her palm, which Jackie noticed. She glanced at the Doctor with satisfaction as she joined them by the side of the bus. "Nice to see that you can still get her to crack a smile, Mr. Spock"

This nickname Rose had granted his ninth incarnation with during his introduction to Jack Harkness made the Doctor groan in annoyance. "You _told_ her about that?"  
Rose grinned, and the happiness reached her blue eyes, making them sparkle with amusement. "I tell my mother everything."  
He paled visibly, "Everything?"  
She blinked secretively and repeated "Everything". A few second of baffled silence followed before Jackie laughed and announced: "Seems we've let the good Doctor sweat enough, Sweetheart. Your father has texted me on your weird multi-universe phone. – I need to get me one of those, by the way, the connection is wonderful – Says the car will be here in ten minutes or so"  
"Fine. Let's find somewhere to wait"  
They settled for some benches by one of vending machines, which the Doctor quickly started prodding at with a stick at different places in hope of getting them some candy. "Do you really think you ought to be on a sugar rush right now?" Rose asked, and Jackie, who followed a more strict moral code than her daughter, added "Or that it's a good idea to rob a slot machine in a public place?"  
The Doctor weren't affected by their indirect warnings, "Technically I am not stealing. Look here"  
He put some money on top of the box and turned towards them, the picture of self-satisfaction. Rose didn't buy it, and suddenly it occurred to her: "You don't know how to use a vending machine!"  
"Yes I do" he said a little too quickly.  
A huge smirk blossomed on the young woman's face, as well as on her mother's. "You, expert in over thousands of species, can't manoeuvre a simple Earth slot machine?"  
The Doctor's face was turning a very charming red as he kept pushing at the device with his stick in defiance, making the whole thing grumble like an angered Tardis as it rejected his efforts.

"It's all the buttons. This thing is a complete mystery to me" he proclaimed and stepped back with a frustrated growl, "If I just had my screwdriver, or something otherwise sonic… "he started looking around for that "something", and Rose, alarmed by the prospect of him attacking the machine with something less harmless than a pointy piece of wood, rose from the bench and took the Norwegian money. "I'll do it." She pointed at the display of sweets and fizzy soft drinks, "What do you want?"  
He grumbled a little more for good measure, then said: "Third from left in the upper row"  
Rose pushed the required buttons and coins in the slot, and a few seconds later a scrambling noise was heard, and the Coke that he had been pining after was soon within reach. He pulled it out and tugged at the small piece of metal to breach the defences of the cheery red can. Rose were about to hand him the spare money and go sit with her mother again, but the Doctor stopped her with a hand on her shoulder – the gesture sending a string of sensations through her – and insisted "And this one as well" – he pointed to a plastic packet of five sugar-coated Belgian waffles – "And that one" – a huge bag of jellies of some Norwegian brand – "And this one" – a two-in-one Yankie bar. Rose could not help but raise an eyebrow at him, "No. You become high on sugar now, you'll be wired for the rest of the day and horrible to travel with. Remember the time in Nepal, with the monks, the fudge and the Renpia-Nelaka?"  
The Doctor stiffened; a dark shadow passed over his features, "I shall never forget Nepal"  
Jackie broke in after a most thorough eye roll, "You two and your insider language. You're just like kindergarteners talking around the adults." She turned to the Doctor, "and I really do agree with Rose, you don't know how your human metabolism regarding candy functions in a human body."  
"That was so illogical I do not even want to have an answer to it." The Doctor said haughtily, then suddenly grinned manically, "Human! Think about all the illnesses I can get now! Alzheimer's, allergies and – oh!" his mouth turned into a perfectly shaped "O" as a thought occurred to him, "I can be smitten with the common cold, Rose!"

Very much amused by his enthusiasm, Rose nodded in the direction of his candy-laden arms, "If your eating habits are going to be like this regularly, you can even succeed in getting yourself Diabetes at an early age"  
"How old do you think I am in this condition?" he asked, genuinely wondering, and his friends were quick to come with their guesses.  
"Only you would classify "being human" as a condition." Jackie said, "And I think late 20ies"  
"Middle 30ies" Rose guessed, a grin making the edges of her lips twitch.  
The Doctor gasped in mock outrage, "Rose Tyler, you are damaging my ego"  
Rose nodded, indicating that it had been very much on purpose, and said "Sometimes, guys like you need to be taking down a nudge"  
Her friend muttered frustrated beneath his breath, then lit up when he eyed a distraction in the form of the car sent to pick them up that had finally reached the bus station. "That must be our ride!" he said, a little too merrily, "With great pomp as well!"  
Rose groaned at the sight of the limmo. Of course he could not send a normal car. Many positive things could be said about her surrogate father, but modest he was not. However, she sort of understood the reasoning behind his decision; Jackie liked luxurious, so if Pete could soften her up with niceties before they returned home, he might as well do it. He was smart and calculating and knew his wife so very well, she thought with a grin.

The chauffeur greeted them with a big smile, and both Rose and the Doctor breathed a sigh of relief as he went out of his shiny, glamorous vehicle and started speaking in a rapid London-English. As frayed as Jackie's nerves where by now, the two of them were quite sure that another encounter with a foreign driver would end in a tiresome display of British anger and haughtiness. They once again took their seats – all this driving was getting quite exhausting – and left the station behind in a cloud of exhaust fumes.

Driving to the airport was uneventful, with only a small amount of talking and a bigger of watching some random DVD at the small television in "the limmo of bribing Jackie" as the Doctor fondly had named it, and sipping champagne. The tension that had followed them since Bad Wolf Bay slowly disappeared, like a massive burden lifting from their shoulders, and by the time they reached the airport they were more relaxed and had the mental strength to do happy chatter with each other. The Doctor and Jackie engaged in a conversation about laws, both trying to outdo each other with their knowledge of strange rules. ("In some American state you are not allowed to have sex with the light turned on!" Jackie said triumphantly, but the Doctor had a quick comeback, "On the planet of Ghasah, you may only wash your clothes on the sixth day of the sixth week, or else you are showing disrespect to the god of dirt!"). When the facts turned more obscene – if that was even possible – Rose tuned them out and fell into a blissful state of contentment as she from a window in the private jet watched the clouds float by beneath them. _Like__ ice cream castles_ she thought dazedly, then felt a smile turn her lips upwards at the silly notion. _There is probably someplace in this universe where the clouds are made of candy and the grass is liquorice. I've got to ask the Doctor about that. Perhaps __when the Tardis coral is grown… _She could almost hear the soft blue song in her mind, and she was absolutely sure that she would never forget how it sounded.

_I'm finally going home._


	4. And knowing is half the battle

**And knowing is half the battle**

"So you're a human?"  
The Doctor, somehow managing to look everywhere but _at_ Pete, nodded drearily – the dark bags beneath his suddenly dull brown eyes were very visible in the bright light of the massive, elaborate chandelier in the hallway of the Tyler mansion. "That just about covers it" he said.  
Pete kept on with his trail of questions relentlessly, "And what did the Doctor call you again?"  
"_He_ called me the Doctor. Metacrisis Doctor. Meaning that I am the Doctor, for all senses and purposes. I am him, we are one and the same." The last sentence was almost hissed out in barely hidden frustration as he made his way past the millionaire and stormed up the stairs, only to stop on the second to last step, turn around and plead with his best friend, who had just appeared in the doorway, "Rose, _tell_ him!"

And then he disappeared through the white door of his room, pulling it shut behind him with an angry bang in a fashion so unlike the usually so collected time lord that it rendered Rose speechless for a second. The three of them, her mother, Pete and her stared at the closed door in wide-eyed amazement, in varying states of shock. Finally Rose's substitute father said "Was it something I said?", looking at Rose with genuine curiosity.

"Of course it was" she said, exhaustedly rubbing her temples; God, this man could be daft, "You behaved like he was some sort of – of a fake!" her voice cracked, "The Doctor said that they were the same, that the Metacrisis was him!"  
"He's not, though" Pete interrupted her, his cheeks burning; he was not used to having people talk back to him in this way, but then again, until a few years ago he had never had a temperamental daughter in her early adulthood. "He's just a highly advanced clone. Surely you see that, Rose"  
"He is not – "  
"Sweetheart, hush. You'll just wake Tony" Jackie said sharply, effectively silencing the two of them, "I know it's been a long few days, but we'll gain nothing from going at each other's throats. We're all.. Tense."  
She turned towards Rose who was standing before her with her head angled towards the floor and her fist knotted tightly at her sides, "You go to bed now, Honey."  
"But what about the Doct – " she interjected anxiously, only to have Jackie cut her off.  
"He just needs a good night's sleep. We all do. He properly has an awful lot to sort out in that already stuffed head of his, we should allow him to do it by himself"  
Pete also received a more harsh-toned order, "You. We'll talk about proper behaviour towards guests as soon as I've checked on my son". She sent them both a last blistering look and then stalked out of the huge hall in the direction of the nursery.

Rose did not look at Pete as she announced, "I'll be off to my room, then". She knew her voice sounded terribly cold, but the mere thought of how he had talked to the Doctor, like he was only some sort of surreal experiment, made her guts clench. The worst part was the guilt she felt by knowing that she had thought like her father only a few days ago when they had first left the Bay, leaving behind another existence and a whole world of adventures. _"He has the same memories as me"_. He had said that, and she wanted to believe him, she tried to with everything she had. She would not stop trying to make him a real human, a real Doctor, to all of them and least of all to herself. "Rose." Pete insisted softly, "I did not mean it like that. It's just… It's a big thing to stomach"  
"Try" she spat out resentfully, then made for a more civil tone, "Thanks for all your help and for letting him stay here. I promise we'll be out of your hair as soon as we find somewhere else to settle".  
She heard the other take a hard intake of breath at her choice of words. "We? What do you mean "we"?"  
He knew, of course, he just needed her to confirm it.  
"Of course it's "we". Where he goes, I follow." She said and took the first two steps of the chairs in one jump. She still did not look at him, feeling both too lost and too exhausted. "You ought to know that by now. I could never abandon him. Never ever" she put pressure on the last word, then added a quiet, "Goodnight, Pete"

They came to London this very morning – arriving in the driveway of Mr. Tyler's huge mansion with the early sunlight, huge zeppelins swarming busily overhead like colonies of wasps, indicating the start of a new day in parallel London. They had all been tired and broken after a night of waiting in the airport and getting next to no sleep, and with no further ado they had stumbled into bed in their assigned rooms without saying a word to each other, having decided to catch up once they had gotten a little rest – except for Jackie, who had rushed to find her husband and son as soon as they'd stepped through the front door. Rose and the Doctor had sent each other a quick look which did not convey any exact message and parted ways. Around seven p.m. – she could not remember a time where she had slept for so long and then just lied in her bed, contemplating about everything that had happened since the Darleks- they woke up and ate a satisfying lunch, though it did nothing to quell the horrible feeling of emptiness in Rose's stomach. As soon as it was okay to leave the table without appearing disrespectful, she did so, counting on the Doctor to update Pete upon what had happened in their absence and sort out what needed to be. She did not get any more sleep, though, cos as soon as her head touched the pillow she had heard the start of the before mentioned argument starting outside her door between an upset Metacrisis Doctor and an even more indignant Pete.

Filled with quiet dread Rose once again went for her bedroom – she longed for the comforting feel of silk sheets against her skin and of the familiar vanilla smell of the soap the housekeeper, Mrs Knight, washed the textiles on her madras with – but then she stopped, realizing that what had just happened had whisked her tiredness away, making room for uncomfortable, buzzing restlessness.

Doctor had been so frazzled as he had called out to her to make her father see reason, to convince Pete that he was real, that he had just as much right to his title as the other Doctor, that he had earned everything he had fair and square. But how could she convince him when she was not quite sure herself – blimey, it hurt to admit it, she felt so awfully cruel - and when she thought of them as two different people instead of the same insane, time-travelling, suit-wearing alien? She took a shaky breath and squeezed two handfuls of the fabric of her pink pyjamas pants so tight that her knuckles turned very pale. She ought to leave him alone, but something pulled her towards his room, one small step at a time, the padding sounds of her feet against the mahogany floor too loud in the empty passage – it was like he was the centre of energy and she was gravitating towards him. She was the compass-needle, always turned towards his magnetic pull and truth be told never wanting it another way. And perhaps he needed her just as much as she needed him – his company, that was, the soothing feeling of his presence. Perhaps she could _do_ something for him. It would be nice if the dependency they had had of each other before still lasted now, such a long time after.

Without really having realized she had chosen a destination, she found herself outside his door a couple minutes later – it was on the floor above hers, so she had passed the stairway unaware that she was even doing so, way too lost in thought. And now that she was sure she wanted to see him – just to check on his wellbeing, she told herself – another question had presented itself. Should she knock or just walk in? When at the Tardis they had practiced no such courtesy since they were so comfortable with each other, but it was likely that after what he had been through today, the Doctor needed his privacy and personal space to be respected instead of just invaded unbidden. Christ, they'd been so close before, and she'd never had to worry about minor stuff like this… She made up her mind and raised her hand to the wooden surface to give it a few quiet taps, but before she got to do so, a muffled voice sounded from the room, "It's okay, Rose"

She frowned, hand hovering irresolutely above the doorknob, "Are you sure? I can leave. Mum said you needed – "  
"I think I'm the best judge of what I need. I need… Please come in"  
Pushing the last traces of doubt aside Rose turned the knob and opened the door, floating the dark room behind it in enough momentary light for her to make out the huddled figure by the headboard of the bed clearly. The Doctor was sitting on the duvet, shoulders hunched and gaze downcast. He was fully clothed, having not even bothered to take of his shoes when he entered his new sleeping quarters, and he looked so messed-up, with the fabric of his suit ruffled and wrinkled and his usually so gorgeously fixed brown hair falling shaggily and unkempt across his forehead. Having lost the sly smartness by giving up a cool exterior the Doctor looked nothing like that person who could awaken both fear and hope in the hearts of all species across the universe with the sole mention of the name. Nothing like the charismatic alien who could tear worlds apart with a word and then put them back together with another. And nothing like the excellent two-hearted warrior and healer whose existence was enough for people to start praying to him for help or prepare for war against him.

This was not a Lord of time and space who could move mountains and clench fires and make peace without ever needing any other weapon than that of his soft voice and his everlasting conviction that there was still Good and that the Second Chance could never ever be debated, no matter the circumstances.

No. What Rose saw at that moment, leaning heavily against the headboard, ragged and dead beat, was a human. Not a wonderfully amazing and indestructible time lord with an ace up his sleeve and a sparkle in his eyes, but a _man_. A tired, vulnerable, lost and confused man who was trapped. Caught like a rabbit in the snare of a new and different world he would have to learn how to navigate. But of course, Rose considered, she could not know if that was even how he was feeling, or if it was something entirely different that affected him in this way. She could only guess, but he _had_ looked so pained when Pete indirectly had accused him of not being the real Doctor, and perhaps he was hurting more by that statement than he let on. She had no idea what was going on in that brilliant mind of his, and it would drive her crazy if she did not figure it out. They had to talk.

Aware of the dull eyes observing her every move Rose slid onto the other end of the bed and arranged her body into a cross-legged position. Keeping her voice light and friendly she said, "You know, Pete didn't mean it the way it sounded. He was just… He's like that, and – "  
"Do you think you'll forgive me?"  
The sentence silenced her stream of words completely, drying them out like a river in a drought-stricken desert. She stared at him in shock, feeling like something was crumpling around her without knowing what – and he just kept looking at her with that dull, mournful gaze that she so wanted to transform into something happier, more lively, more _the Doctor._ It was like the silence reverberated around the room, screaming at her till her head started arching.

"What do you mean?" she asked sharply, vaguely noticing that her hands were clenched so tightly that her nails bore into her palms and made small crescent shapes in the pale skin. "What do you mean, forgive you? I don't understand."  
This time he did not try to look away – instead he sought her eyes, holding her gaze, looking straight into her soul and beyond with that old wisdom that belonged to only him and which made her head spin and heart both soar and pound in her chest. "You know what I mean. If I had not killed those Darleks and committed genocide you would not have been forced to stay behind with me. If I had thought even for a moment, logically, considered my actions… You would be with _him_ right now, Rose, travelling the stars. Instead you are stuck here. With a fake Doctor made from a _freaking_ hand!" he snapped out the last words in an agitatedly raised way, and Rose took a sharp intake of breath. Not often did she hear the Doctor swear, and she would prefer to keep it like that.

_Blimey, this is the most serious case of pillow talk I've ever participated in_. She was on the verge of saying so out loud, but nothing indicated that this might be a situation for mood-lightening jokes, so she held her tongue and tried to wrap her brain around what he had just said, the degrading way in which he had talked about his own existence. She reached for his hand and felt a sting of hurt when he discretely, but with a firmness unfamiliar to Rose, pulled it away. Trying not to look to shaken up by this silent rejection that somehow made her throat feel very tight, she said the first thing coming to mind that might be helpful, "But a part of you is Donna, too." She noticed his face perking up slightly at the mention of his recent fiery companion, and Rose could not suppress the slightest hint of ugly envy at his subconscious show of affection– she wanted to be one of the people who could drag him back to the surface when his mind was shrouded in darkness and awaken the spark in his warm eyes for just a moment. However, the glimmer of hopefulness that had lit up his face died out quickly, and he looked lonelier than she had ever seen him, and this scared her, 'cos Rose had seen her Doctor at both his best and his worst and thought she had could handle it all.

"I could never be like Donna" his voice was low and hoarse and almost broken – but that could not be right, could it? – "Donna was brilliant". And he stared into the air with an empty expression but with eyes containing a sadness that made her believe that he could see and knew something that she did not. Something about Donna, something that wasn't good. Something that made Rose's stomach clench in what she felt was justified anxiousness. She closed her eyes and dwelled in the comforting darkness for a few long seconds, drawing energy from memories of happier times where these sorts of conversations had been unfathomable, then opened them and steadily told him what she herself was immensely convinced of, "Donna _is_ brilliant. And so – "she swallowed and hastily continued, having seen him open his mouth in an attempt to contradict her, "So will you be."

"Rose.." he whispered her name softly, forming it gently between his lips, uttering it like was he saying a prayer – a sweet caress that warmed something inside her mind which had been encased in ice, isolated and crippled, and without even telling her so she knew that she was still 'his Rose' and that he was willing to take her faith in him at face value. "It's my fault that you have to hurt" he muttered, face pale with the moonlight streaking through the clean patch between the white drapes covering the window. "And you were so close. If I hadn't… If I had…" he drifted off into a dismayed stillness.  
"Shh… It's okay" she said, but at that answer he just tensed visibly and leaned towards her, pushing away from the headboard in an almost frantic motion. Her lips parted in a soundless gasp as he gripped her shoulders – not in a harsh way, but with exactly enough force to make her whole body feel the gravity of the conversation topic. It was like the bare skin of her shoulders was quivering and burning beneath his touch, and emotions washed over her like crashing waves, threating to pull her under – anticipation, tension and perhaps just a tinge of fear, something she had never in her wildest dreams thought would be invoked around and because of him. "Doctor"

"You can't call me that!" he hissed frantically, his hair standing on end and his eyes wide. He looked downright manic, and Rose so wanted to touch him – to soothe him and take his panic away, but he would not let her. She wanted to put her hand on his forehead, her palm to his feverishly red skin, and cool him. His hold on her tightened as her shook her, and she could see him crumple before her very eyes. "I'm not him! My memories aren't real! I've never experienced those things, never felt what it was like to travel and bask in the starlight and listen to the song of the universe! I wasn't there, I'm a shadow, a copy, a bleeding _fake_!" he had started rambling, "None of it is mine, it doesn't belong to me. I'm empty except for another man's memories, and you don't know me 'cos I have never existed. And Pete – "  
"Don't" she begged softly, but he did not listen.  
"Pete was right, Rose. I am not him. I look like him, but I will never be him. I will never have two hearts".

And then the meticrisis Doctor finally broke down. He fell into her waiting arms; all strings holding him upright cleanly cut, and started crying in big, heaving sobs that made his shoulders shake. His tears fell so earnestly and he did nothing to hold them at bay. He cried like a child, with total abandon, a mixture of salty liquid and snot from a running nose making tracks on his cheeks and chin. And Rose just embraced him and whispered sweet nothings into his ears, murmured words of comfort that made no sense, 'cos what else could she do? She could never leave him. She didn't love him, but she was starting to; she was falling so hard for this person who clung to her so desperately, who needed her in his hopeless state of being lost, and who was good and brave and a man who deserved and was worthy of everything she could – and was willing to - give him. And Rose was willing to give him everything she had. She wanted _him_. Rose did not want to the Doctor who was whirling about in his magic blue box and whom she would miss forever but eventually get over and harbour nothing but fond feelings towards. What she wanted was to get to know this man in her arms – his good sides as well as his bad. What he liked to eat, his favourite movie, every little piece of trivia one could possibly think of. See how his face would be the picture of animated glee when he woke up on the first morning of Easter holiday and found a treasure map (which of course she had made) revealing the path to a string of chocolate bunnies - and eggs. To travel with him across the Earth, seeing everything worth seeing – from the Eifel tower in Paris to the pyramids in Egypt and the Taj Mahal in India. To teach him how to shot a bow and in return have him educate her in how to speak Gallifreyan. To do everything together. But he would have to know that.

"I don' need you to have a back-up heart. I don't want you to be him."  
He looked up at her, eyes sparkling and red with unshed tears. "What?". He looked so bewildered that she could not help smiling.  
"I want you to make your own memories, and that you make them with me. I need you to figure out who you are and become your own person and your own Doctor. You have every chance to be someone you can be proud of and who will treat others with kindness and compassion. A person who forgives and whose one single heart is great enough for two." She gently leaned out of the hug to be able to establish eye contact. "Rose, I – " a tender hope replaced the sadness, and Rose knew she had finally succeeded in helping him out of the wreckage his own soul had created. "Sh." She put the tip of a finger to his lips, effectively silencing him. "And I want you to be a person whose existence no one will ever forget or regret."

And she somehow knew that he would be. Rose had no doubt about it, and she wanted to show him that. So after having finished this sentence, she leaned in and mildly let her lips brush against his tear stained cheekbone, like sealing the deal with a kiss. She could feel him shivering beneath her mouth, and his long fingers tightened their grip on her upper body before carefully snaking their way around the small of her back and subtly pulling her closer. It felt both good and natural, and Rose wanted every one of their embraces from now on to be like this – made from affection, trust and devotion. Holding him close like this was like being wrapped in a soft and comforting blanket, and his heart beat steadily against her own chest and promised long life and safety and sunlit moments.

Floating on a cloud on contentment she became momentarily startled when he said, voice muffled against her shoulder, "You've got considerable oratorical skills. When did you learn that?"  
She chuckled, "I've got to have the hang on my modes of persuasion when living in a family consisting solely of people who are obstinate as mules"  
"I see" he slowly, almost reluctantly, untangled their limps. "Will you teach them to me?" his smile was crocked and genuine with only the redness around his eyes to reveal that something had been wrong, "I mean, if I am going to be around in the future, I might have to learn how to handle the Tyler family"  
A warm glow of happiness filled her, and she nodded before teasingly saying, "As long as you don't use my secrets against me."

"Scout's honour" he said solemnly and raised his hand as if he was swearing an oath.  
Rose grinned and added, "Cross your heart?"  
Something very soft flickered across his face, and Rose knew that they would be okay. It would all be better. "Yes" he agreed, making the required motion above his chest, "Cross my heart".  
"Then that's settled. I'll teach you everything I know."  
"Everything?" he said, and the joking atmosphere slipped away as suddenly as it had appeared, "Does that mean that… I can be here". He flinched at the last words, either because they sounded cheesy or domestic (and the Doctor abhorred those things), or because his future life as a human depended on her answer.  
"Of course" she said, as a confirmation to both questions, "But it will be tough to learn Everything." She smiled as his fingers entwined with hers, "Are you ready?"  
"Yeah." He looked at her with such warmth that she almost felt dizzy, "And you know what they say?"  
"What is that?" she tilted her head with a puzzled look.  
"That knowing…"  
"Is half the battle" she finished for him, and their light laughter followed and filled the room, chasing the shadows and nightmares away.

They would fight this, Rose thought as she moments later laid next to him on the huge mattress, listening to his breath, which had evened out and become peaceful in his sleep. ("Will you stay?" "… Yeah") They would fight, and they would win the battle. Together.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Done with chapter 4. This will be everything for now, since I am leaving for America on a three week long holiday tomorrow morning, so there will be no updates on the story till I return.

I really hope you liked this chapter, and for some bonus information, this chapter was written while I listened to and was shamelessly inspired by the song Angel (the version I heard is performed by John Barrowman, who also played Jack Harkness in Doctor Who). The song is of course to be found on Youtube.

Have a great summer.


	5. Talking in a language no one speaks

**Talking a language no one speaks**

"Roll.. Roooll.. You've got to roll your tongue more when you make the R-sound, Rose." The Metacrisis gestured towards the international map hanging above the head of his suddenly reluctant pupil, pointing at one specific point in the mesh of writing and colours that made up the European continent, "Like they do in Spain". A string of cryptic hissing noises and mixed vowels erupted from his throat, and Rose felt like her head might explode. She loved studying and learning new languages, but right at this moment she would have been able to pinpoint the exact locations of anywhere she'd rather be than here – like Budapest. And yet... Having him there, by her side and close enough for her to bask in the radiance of his beaming smile… There was probably no place better than here, but even the thought of having him in such a close proximity was not enough to clench the annoyance that more than half an hour of futile practice had brought upon her.

Her tongue was sore from all the bloody rolling and she felt dizzy just by thinking of the Gallifreyan set of rules concerning grammar that she would have to memorize. The Doctor had insisted that it would be easier for her to just _speak_. To toss herself into it and pick up on the words, phrases and restrictions of the Time lord language along the way, but Rose preferred a more systematic approach by learning the rules – at least the basic ones – as a start. She'd done that with Latin, worked her way up, and she was actually proud of how much she had accomplished since she started taking that evening school course three months ago. She could (almost) ask for a plate of smoked salmon if she were ever to visit a historical Roman city. The Doctor _did_ once say that he would bring her back to the day of the emperor Cesar's death… But there wasn't exactly an English text book for a complicated alien language like the one spoken by the extinct people of Gallifrey.

"I know, I know" she said, sighing as she let herself flump back first onto the plush carpet they had been sitting on for the last couple of hours. They were cooped up in the Tyler family's well stocked library, and had been so on-and-off for two weeks now, reading and playing games and talking, only to leave the room whenever Jackie forced them to the kitchen to feed them or when one of them had to answer the call of nature. They had not slept besides each other since that first night, though Rose knew she wanted to. Only a couple of days after they announced their presence in the house, the Doctor had taken a likening to this room and soon proclaimed it as a fitting place for him and Rose "become re-acquainted with each other" after such a long separation (that of course depended on from which angle you looked at it, since they had sort of been together since his birth). He went to the task of learning everything about Pete's world and whatever remained new to him with such a fierce dedication that Rose more than once was close to forgetting the underlying reason for his intense activity – namely postponing the unavoidable event that was his meeting with the parallel world's version of the Torchwood organization. It was not that he did not _want_ to get in contact with Rose's coworkers, cos as he said, "I'm sure they're all quite nice – by human standards, of course". He just had a grudge against Victoria's Torchwood in the Old World which he refused to let go of.

Naturally, he never really gave her his old resentment as a reason for his reluctance, but Rose knew him well enough to see past his yarn-spinning. Sometimes he would even wince by just hearing her say its name, and she would think of Harriet, whom she had cared for deeply but also felt indignant at for having planted this distrust in her Doctor. So from the moment they arrived, she humored him and did not mention Torchwood more than necessary and mostly only when it by coincidence popped up in casual conversations. The two of them slipped into an oblivious state of peace, doing nothing but what they wanted to do alternately in the comforting quiet of the library, the huge Tyler home and the massive garden belonging to the mansion. They remained mostly undisturbed, except for when Jackie would come check on them, or when Tony on his chubby legs would toddle over and join them where they were sitting, a big gleeful smile on his face and round cheeks rosy with laughter. Rose had been a little concerned as to how the Doctor would get along with her kid brother, but she needn't be worried. The first thing the Time Lord did when seeing Tony standing hesitantly in front of them on the freshly mowed grass in the lawn was to crack a 100-wat grin at the child and drop the tennis ball he had been sitting with to reach out with open arms, beckoning Tony closer. The little boy obliged, and soon they were tossing (or well, Tony was determinedly tossing it as far as he could manage with his short arms, while the Doctor was rolling it gently towards him, all the while looking more at ease than Rose had seen him for a good while). Without thinking she had pointed out that he would make for a fine father. This comment silenced him and made his expression sort of wistful, but that only lasted until Tony craved his attention and they once again started babbling away in Baby, which apparently was a language. It sounded so silly coming out of the mouth of a grown man that she could not help the giggle which escaped her. The Doctor looked at her, eyes widened in surprised, until a pleased expression lit up his face. His Rose-smile was so gentle, and she marveled in the soothing familiarity of it. Some things never change.

And now she had finally convinced him to teach her Gallifreyan, seeing that they seemingly had all the time in the world, but it had turned out to be a much harder task that she would have thought. A break was much needed, she decided as she reached out to grab a can of Coke from the red insulated bag they had brought with them from the kitchen's almost obscenely large refrigerator. When she could not excuse herself any longer with shuffling around the cans and shutting the bag, she returned her attention to the man in front of her who kept on talking, totally unaffected by the fact that she was not fully paying attention. "And as I mentioned before, there are several kinds of written Gallifreyan, but only two kinds of oral ones. That's Old High Gallifreyan, which has not been spoken since the days of Rassilon, and Vulgate, which is modern. There's also Circular Gallifreyan, which is much more complex."  
"So you're speaking Vulgate?"  
"Yep"

"And the Old High Gallifreyan.. Is that like Latin? I mean, like some people know how to write and translate it, but no one speaks it anymore?"  
"Exactly." He grinned and lifted a notebook to rest against his knee, then took the pen from behind his ear where it had been placed. He was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt and looked like every other human male would do on a Sunday with nothing planned but watching telly and drinking tea all day. She had asked him about his choice of clothing when he joined her, Pete, Jackie and Tony at the breakfast table, and he had proudly announced that if this sort of "Casual Friday" outfit was common Earth fashion, he would like to indulge in it. He'd had absolutely no idea why they had starting laughing, and had gotten offended when Tony from atop his baby chair had added, spitting out a mouthful of spinach porridge his mother had just managed to get him to eat, "You look funny".

"I can write in the old language, and can pronounce a few phrases as well, though I'm no master. Uh, but I can do my name with that alphabet" he put the pen to the paper, and Rose watched in fascination as the small tool by his hand formed shapes mostly looking like a mixture of Greek letters and mathematical symbols. _δ³Σx²_. She stared at it in baffled wonder. "That's your name?" she asked, "It's… Something else. How do you even pronounce that?" She sent him a smile, but was startled by the calm seriousness with which he regarded her. Suddenly it was like she was part of a special moment she had not even noticed was present. The atmosphere had turned so solemn with the disappearance of his happiness, it was like a heavy weight on her shoulders, and it felt like the sun was mocking them by shining so brightly outside at such a time. Finally, after a few seconds which felt like hours, he said with a tone forced to be light, "There's only a very few people who know my name. Or his name. I don't know." A frustrated frown appeared on his forehead, "Whatever. I'd just… I would prefer it to stay that way, for now. Besides…". He perked up a bit, "I'm John Smith. It says so on my psychic paper". He winked at her like they'd just shared a jolly good joke, and the sun was again allowed to do all the shining it saw fit.

Rose wanted to ask more question to both quell her curiosity and to make her envy seem more reasonable. Who were these people who the Doctor trusted enough to hand over his biggest and darkest secrets to? Why hadn't he told her? Would he have had if given the time, if she had not been sent off to the Parallel world? She did not want to make him uncomfortable, though, and she had all the time in the world to try and understand him. The thought of being together for such an infinite amount of hours and days and months made a warmth blossom somewhere inside of her. She did not need to know his name, she just needed him. And she wanted him to need her as well.

"And on the new passport Pete got for you yesterday" she said and then carefully added, "I think he might be trying to apologize… For his behavior"  
The Doctor just answered, tone relaxed, "There's nothing to apologize for". But she could see in the way in which his eyes gleamed a little more and in the sagging of his shoulders that he was relieved. She knew being uneasy around Pete and unsure of how the other man thought of him had taken its toll on her friend. If it came down to it, Rose would chose her friendship with him over her relationship with Pete (though there was no need for him to know that), but she would of course much prefer for them to get along well.

"Do you feel… I don't know, better around here since you first arrived? Do you like it here?" she asked him. It was a question she had wanted to ask him for a long time, but hadn't dared to. Whether he had just settled with living in the Tyler residence and in reality longed for something _more_ and just had not enough courage to tell her so in fear of angering her, or he in fact did want to be in her home with her family. And with her. Rose knew she was probably most unbecomingly paranoid, but in all fairness, when you were used to travelling between her stars and planets in a spaceship, you might be a little too restless to sit around calmly like the Doctor was doing now. That thought made her avoid his gaze after having poured out one of her heart's biggest current worries, instead to look at the intricate swirly shapes that were Gallifreyan letters.  
Stroking the smooth surface of the paper and trying intensely not to seem like she was about to spontaneously combust with anxiety – that would probably not help at all. "Rose" he said, calm voice seemingly very loud in the stillness of the library, with a sureness to it that had an instant and remarkably relaxing effect on her, "You could take me everywhere. Here, try pronouncing this. It means "It is a nice weather today" in Vulgate. That alphabet is not so different from Old High Gallifreyan, it's mostly the oral part." He gestured encouragingly towards something he had written, and she did as told to: "_ΩɅ7ƛƕ__4__ ȋȜȝ__ɝ__ʘ_", wincing at the simply horrible way the words jarred on her ears when she spoke them, as opposed to the deep, lingering, and powerful sounds coming from the Doctor. Who had ever heard any Time Lord – or an associate of theirs - talk with a London accent?

"Everywhere?" she said, tilting her head slightly to the left, making her hair rest gently against her shoulder, a fall of locks painted a shimmering golden by the rays of sun shining through the big window showing of the wonderful view to the lush, green park which Jackie so loved.  
The Doctor nodded, "Absolutely. Go wherever you would like. The moon. A Darlek colony. Climbing the Mount Everest" he grinned at her, brown eyes large and wonderful and playful, "I'd even endure living at your mother's place, as long as you were there."  
"You'd just… Follow me?". She could almost hear the blood rushing through her veins and her heart beating loud and rapidly, running a thousand miles an hour in her chest like some crazed animal.  
"Always". He leaned towards her, and for just a second Rose seriously thought that he would kiss her, but his only motive with the motion turned out to be helping himself to one of the bananas in the fruit basket standing just next to her. He fell back on his heels and started peeling the yellow object with enthralled and animated rapture, carefree like he had not just basically told her that she meant so much to him that no matter where she went, he would tag along. That knowledge was enough for anyone to feel giddy. He winked at her as he started munching on the banana, "Is there anywhere you'd like to go?"  
The peaceful atmosphere was something Rose relished in, and without thinking the words just flowed freely from her: "I'd like to go to San Francisco and walk the Golden Gate Bridge. I'd like to see Uluru and the heads on the Easter Island, and to drink tea in Beijing and visit Knossos on Crete. And…"

Eyes shining and hands motioning to a dozen of places on the map she laid out all her plans to him, barely noticing the adoring gaze she received while she was so caught up in dreams of the future. She turned towards him, cheeks aflame with delight and posture straight and all sorts of names and brilliant sights on her mind and her tongue, when suddenly he reached out and pulled her close. Her heart might have stopped beating for the moment in which a long, slender finger caressed her cheek and their eyes interlocked and it felt like they were just in sync, communicating without a single sentence having to pass between them. Like before. Like they used to be.

"_The Doctor. In the TARDIS. With Rose Tyler. Just as it should be."__  
_The real Doctor, or at least the original one, had announced this with a solemn expression just before handing his doppelgänger the piece of coral, which seemed both so tiny and so big at the same time, and she understood and sympathized with the strangely fathomless hunger in the human Doctor's eyes, cos she felt it too when staring at the small piece of the time travelling box promising all sorts of wonderful and horrible and beautiful adventures that were so close to be hers. To be theirs. It could all belong to them once again, when they just made that coral, still nestled cozily in one of the Doctor's socks on his nightstand, grow, become big enough to carry them both on enough journeys to satisfy the soul for a lifetime and more.

"It'd be so brilliant" she said, knowing her voice sounded breathless and not caring in the slightest, "You and me and the Tardis. We could go. See the world, all the worlds". He gave a small nod, and he was so close she could feel him breathing, a slight bust of warm air tickling her skin. It was so easy to see that he hung on to every descriptive word, so totally, helplessly hooked, and she knew that nothing would stop them. Not when they were both dying to experience all that the universe could offer them. She flung herself forwards and into his arm, which immediately encased her in a kind embrace, and it was so good and so natural and Rose never wanted to let go, and neither did he – it was obvious in the way his muscles tightened beneath the skin, assisting him in pulling her so close it was like they would melt together and be one single thing, living with one purpose and one purpose only. Being and feeling that they were, in fact, alive. She smiled at how her mother would have called those Purple Prose thoughts, and was filled with satisfaction by feeling a grin spread across his face against the side of her neck where his face was nuzzled. "We hug a lot, don't we?"

"Yea, we do." She agreed. A few seconds passed in companionable silence, then "I like it". The statement had a finality to it, daring him to disagree, which he did not. Instead he just muttered something against her collarbone, so quietly that the words drowned before she could decipher them.  
"Come again?"  
"I think I… I think I want to kiss you."  
"Oh."  
"Can I?"  
Could he? The first time they kissed, in the harsh wind at Bad Wolf Bay and with tears freezing on her cheeks, had been a spur-of-the-moment thing. He had told her that she loved her, and she so wanted to mend her heart and to find her way back to the right path, become more than just a crying mess, shattered by her almost lover's disappearance into mist and tears and lurking, unreachable shadows at the edge of her dreams. Wanted to be Rose again, but she could never just be that girl anymore. Since the events of the day that tore them apart, she had become so much more. Employee of the Torchwood Organization in the London of Pete's world. Her coworkers' superior. A college applicant. Pete's daughter. Tony's sister. A fierce fighter and an endless supply of gentle words after a battle went wrong and left scars, physically and mentally. Someone people depended on, had faith in, offered their loyalty to. Someone loved and respected. Special in others' eyes, this young woman who had been found worthy of seeing it all with _the_ Doctor, who had discovered love and then had it experience an abrupt ending so tragically it could easily have rivaled Romeo and Juliet's story. There was a difference, though, since she'd not committed suicide by consuming poison. Not even at her darkest hour had she ever thought of taking her own life, cos she knew that she was needed. Her mother, Tony, Pete. They all needed her. Even young Jake Simmonds, former resistance group member, now a most trusted member of the Torchwood organization, looked up to her and counted on her guidance. She could never just abandon them because that would have been the easier choice. She would not be a yellow coward, getting of the train before reaching her stop. The Doctor was not a quitter, so Rose had decided that she wouldn't be, either.

He held her firmly, yet tenderly in his arms, and she wanted to toss every doubt aside and just say yes – she had waited for years, after all, and she knew that she was beginning to fall in love with him – hell, she'd been so before he even existed. And that last fact was probably the problem. But would she make him do it for the right reason? Because she honestly wanted the human Doctor to kiss her? Or because he simply looked so much like the other one, the one she had known for such a long time and who had left her as a poor fractured excuse for a person? She wasn't sure, and that made her body tense up and her expression grow hesitant which in turned caused him to pull away slightly, but enough to feel the lack of his warmth against the bare skin of her neck and throat.  
"I can't. I – I'm sorry. Not yet."

"I get it" he said gently, but she saw a flash of pain before he managed to conceal it. It reminded her a little too much of the few minutes after the moment of his latest regeneration when he had changed right before her eyes to become and become a real alien creature, appearing on the place where her best friend had stood. There was this new person who swore that he was the same, and then started to slip away before she got a chance to try and understand it as the truth. And he had looked so hurt…

"_Who are you?" She asked him timidly, not moving from the secure__ spot behind the pillar from where she had just watched her whole world crumble in a golden light. The deep brown eyes of the person standing in front of her widened, as if he could not quite believe what she was asking him. He had clearly not anticipated __her being anything less than overjoyed. Slightly crestfallen, but also very kindly, like was he talking to a frightened little kid, he said: "I'm the Doctor"__  
__  
__She shook her head firmly, pushing against the pillar and _willing_ the Tardis to get rid of this i__mposer and bring _her_ Doctor back. "No." she said, voice shaking and eyes burning. The blue spaceship could sense the young woman's distress and tried to calm her to the best of its extend, making soft whirring noises in the background. She wanted to protec__t her own, and right now Rose needed this more than anything. "Where is he? Where's the Doctor? What have you done to him?" the last part came out in a raised and accusing tone, and the man was clearly back by the fierceness of her question and the way she__ flinched and shied away __when he moved.__  
__  
__"You saw me, I – I changed…" he said, sounding almost desperate as he indicated with his thumb over his shoulder to the spot where the regeneration had happened, "Right in front of you".__  
__"I saw him sort of explode, __and then you replaced him, like a... a teleport or a transmat or a body swap or something." She said, grappling in thin air for something that could explain what had happened so that she could convince herself that he was a liar who had stolen the person m__ost important to her in the world. __  
__The leather jacket he was wearing was clearly more than one size too big and combining this fact with his apparent loss of words gave him an utterly forlorn and disheartened look. He could not believe what he was hearing__, and it only added to his state of shock that his usually so good-natured and sweet companion took a couple steps forward and pushed him in the chest at arm's length. __  
__"You're not fooling me" she said as he rocked back on his heels to avoid getting physic__ally ambushed any further. "I've seen all sorts of things." She continued, "Nano genes… Gelth… Slitheen…". She looked at him darkly as he raised his eyebrow, and then gasped in horror, "Oh, my God, are you a slitheen?"__  
__Steadily, though his forehead was shi__ning with nervous sweat, he informed her that he wasn't, but it did not calm her one bit. She did not want to go to Barcelona, she wanted her Doctor back. Rose's voice rose to a shout and she was dangerously close to crying in front of this stranger, "Send__ him back. I'm warning you, send the Doctor back right now!". Why could she never have what she wanted?_

"_Rose, it's me" he pleaded with her, not beneath begging her to trust him, "Honestly, it's me. I was dying. To save my own life I changed my body. Every single cell, but… It's still me"  
Feeling her resolve weakening, she whispered, "You can't be"  
The Doctor resolutely took a few steps closer to her, looking straight into her eyes. "Then how could I remember this? Very first word I ever said to you. Trapped in that cellar. Surrounded by shop window dummies... oh... Such a long time ago. I took your hand…". He took his hand as he said it, taking them both back to the very first time they met, when Rose asked him who he was. Glancing briefly at their joint hand, some part of her decided on not pulling away from him.  
"I said one word… Just one word, I said… "Run". " Her tears were now so close to spilling that she only managed to hold them back because she refused to let him see her cry. "Doctor" she said doubtfully, and he grinned so his face lit up like a child's on Christmas Eve.  
"Hello"_

And she fell back with an exasperated sigh, relieve mixed with exhaustion crossing her facial features. He, on the other hand, took off around the other side of the console, flicking switches while babbling away about running and jumping. Then he started to do the last things as well, bobbing up and down where he stood like some sort of mental clown in a box, wildly enthusiastic. That emotion ebbed from him quickly, though, when she asked him if he could change back. He answered her no, voice neutral but face disappointed, and she knew that she had hurt him with her inquiry more than anything she could ever say could manage to. And she had said a lot.

He was looking like that at this moment, shuffling through the pieces of paper covered in Gallifreyan letters just to have something to do with his hands, like she had done before. "I'm sorry" she could not recognize her own voice; it sounded far away and foreign with the blood whooshing in her ears and the fear suddenly filling her mind. The Doctor stood, a little unsteadily after having been sitting down for hours, and said: "I think I'll go for a walk in the garden"  
The words weren't cold, exactly, but there was a sort of lifeless quality to them which made her feel cold all over. "I'm sorry" she repeated herself, "I just… He was my… Doctor, I'm… Please don't be mad"  
He sent her a smile, a hauntingly sad one. "You know I could never be, Rose."  
Then he turned around and left the library, the large white shirt he was wearing obscuring his form and painfully reminding her of a black leather jacket from long time ago.

The Doctor was never supposed to look small.

I've never been good with Angsty, hope it doesn't show too much, and also that you've enjoyed reading this chapter. I put a lot of thought and concentration into it, and I would like for it to be a job well done, so I'd be real glad to receive some reviews. Some of you who have seen the Children in Need special from 2005 might recognize the scene written in Italics.

Also, if anyone's interested, here are the names of the songs I've listened to while writing this chapter.

Almost lover – A fine frenzy.  
Crying in the rain – The everly brothers (performed by Søs Fenger).  
Fix you – Coldplay.  
Bring the lights – Carpark North.  
Better – Regina Spektor.  
De første kærester på månen – TV-2 (Danish song which is sort of both silly and sad at the same time).  
Close your eyes – Brødrene Olsen.  
The Poison – The All-American rejects.


	6. What he has done

**What he has done**

Rose more than once came to the conclusion that it was, in fact, very nice being ones' own boss. She weren't exactly the director of the Torchwood office or anything, but she was still pretty high up in the ranks and therefore had the benefits of unlimited access to the coffee machine, permission to bring home weird alien stuff as long as it was harmful, and also, which right now proved very beneficial, the possibility of planning some of her own hours. So when Rose unannounced dropped in at the headquarters, breathing a sigh as she shut the heavy steel door (they had that installed after Jake's last attempt at making friends with Martians) and exhausted leaned against the cold surface, no one asked what she was doing there. After having stood in this position for a few more minutes while gathering her thoughts and trying to calm her frayed nerves, she went to her assigned desk and popped into her chair – the one Pete had brought for her, nice and big and covered in stylish black leather. The people who were actually at work at the time just made welcoming gestures, and no one asked any questions, which she was thankful of. None of them came close enough to see how her cheeks were flushing red with embarrassment and how dark circles around her eyes were giving away how tired she was, which was very relieving since she would not know how to explain to them the reason why she looked so depressed.

As a proud Tyler woman, Rose has always considered herself brave. Maybe a little to reckless and rash at times, but she compensated for that with her reasonable and logical thinking. The biggest problem was that she too often let feelings get in the way of and colour her decisions – she might be what people called "emotional", and though she hated to admit it, this had very much shined through today. Instead of finding the Doctor and explained where the hesitation had come from immediately after their… Fall out, if one might call it that, she had fled the library and rushed through the house towards the small car-park where her silver-gray Volvo was presenting itself as an excellent mean of a hasty escape. She'd almost bombed into her mother in front of their home, but found herself unable to stop and tell Jackie what was wrong or tell her off, which she knew she would feel guilty about as soon as the eminent presence of the unavoidable feeling that she had destroyed something essential without even knowing how she had done so had lessened its grip on her a little.

She was left undisturbed for the entirety of fifteen minutes before the only two fellow Torchwooders who were present on a quiet day like this, timid Elizabeth Nane and Rose's before mentioned friend Jake Simmonds, finally found the courage to leave their own cubicles and try asking her what her mum had not succeeded in getting an answer to.  
"Rose" Jake asked in his distinct Newcastle accent, his forehead pulled together in a worried frown, "Are you…?"  
They knew of course why she hadn't been to work for a while no more than a few times (and only to do the stuff only she was capable of doing), so there was no use in giving them a re-cap of what had happened since Bad Wolf Bay. Just as well, cos with her feelings already running on overdrive she could give no guarantee that she wouldn't start crying, and that would definitely suck now, for lack of a better description.

"It's…" she swallowed, holding the pen she had been using to sign some documents in such a tight grip that her knuckles turned white and the device was just about to snap from the pressure, "It's him, Jake."  
And once she saw the kindness in the two pair of eyes looking down at her, concern and compassion and dedication clearly showing her how much she and her happiness mattered to them, she decided to forget everything about being strong – it hadn't worked out anyway – and found comfort in the steadiness of her blonde friend's embrace. She buried her face in the flat expense of his chest and let silent tears soak the white fabric of his cotton shirt, all the while savouring the sensation of his strong hands stroking her hair and Elizabeth's slim and cool fingers brushing the skin of her arm gently. They must have made quite a sight; a man and a woman dressed in dark suits, holding and whispering soothing words to a devastated friend, dressed just as respectably and sharply as themselves, who was sitting on her knees on the hardwood floor, holding on to them for dear life. Afraid that if she let go, they would disappear on her. Leave, just like everybody else. Just like Mickey and Jack and Donna and Martha. Just like her Doctor. Sooner or later, everyone went away, and she would be alone again, trapped with her fear and loss and shattered memories. She had a Doctor, but she did not, and it was all so bittersweet and she did not know what to do, and it might be a tiny little thing like a rejection of a kiss that set it in motion, but there had been so much more luring in the shadows of their bright and carefree days. Rose's love was tainted, and though she so wanted to give it to the new Doctor and love him and care for him unconditionally, some part of her felt like she was betraying _him_.

"We know, Honey" Elizabeth said, kneeling beside her and tugging the spineless and broken shape of her friend into her arms and embraced her, just like the Doctor would have done had he seen her this distressed, and a touch of his always never ceased in making her feel better. Elizabeth was not the Doctor and could not hope to replace him (not that her friend wanted to, Rose was sure of that), but being held by someone felt nice, still. Lips quivering she opened her mouth in an attempt to explain her horribly unprofessional behavior, but Jake, who had also joined them on the floor, silenced her, "Hush. It's okay, you don't have to tell us anything"  
"It's just so…" Rose whispered, drying salty tears of her cheeks with the back of the hand that was not holding Jake's, "I don't know what to do anymore. I was so close to… And then he just left me here. With _him_. Metacrisis. The Doctor said that that they were the same, and to some extend they are, but it doesn't feel right, and I'm – "

Another heartbroken sob forced its way up her throat, "I want to, I do! He's been nothing but sweet and he doesn't pressure me, but I can't be what he wants me to be, not yet…"  
"Rose, don't do this to yourself" Jake said forcefully, a twinkle of anger in his icy blue eyes. He had been so protective of her since she and Mickey arrived back in Pete's world after their trip to Norway to see the Doctor after he had been appearing in Rose's dreams and drawing her to the place he would arrive with the help of a dying star. It was a little funny actually – she had never imagined that the two of them could be friends, being as different as they were. Jake was harsh, temperamental and too headstrong for his own good, while she… Well, she did not know how she could identify herself now; she had changed so much since then, but when Mickey walked her the distance between the car and the front door to the house after a long and tedious flight from Oslo, she had been a mess. People called her brave and resourceful, but weeks after the incident she had been barely able to hold it together, snapping at everyone who came close and got worked up over positively nothing. It was a wonder that the emotional wreck who had taken over her body and poisoned her mind did not push away the people close to her by treating them so awfully. The only ones she cared about were there with her, both when she needed them and when she didn't (or did not know that she did). Mickey and Jake became her lifelines who would always pull her to her feet when she fell and tell her to move forward when looking backwards became too much.

"I just – " she stumbled over the words before managing to put herself relatively together (or at least enough to crawl back onto her chair and adopt a more decent position), "I thought it would be easier"  
Elizabeth nodded sympathetically, while Jake fetched a couple chairs from the neighboring tables and sunk down onto one of them, chest against the back of the chair and feet casually tapping a rhythm on the floor. They sat in a semi-uncomfortable silence, mostly caused by Rose's breaths still coming out in sobbing jerks, while her female colleague poured fresh and steaming coffee into three mugs. She carried them to the table, handed one to each of them, and said, words matching her sensible nature perfectly, "He probably did as well, the second Doctor"

"There's no second Doctor" Rose spat out and made an emphasizing sweep with her arm, causing the mug to almost topple over the edge of the table. She was being irrational, and this was so unlike her, but the guilt and the self-resentment was becoming too much, and though she knew that she would regret the next sentence as soon as she had said it, she pressed on, "The Doctor left me! He didn't want me, and he thought I would be satisfied with a clone and – "

"Shut up" an eerily cold command sounded to her left. Jake's voice had been quiet and measured, yet it sent shivers down her back, and she automatically drew back when he stood in his full high (which was not very tall, but intimidating none the less), fists clenched and grey eyes full of thunder. "You have no idea, do you?"  
"But I – " she stammered, feeling disconcertingly much like she had been hit straight in the face, and very surprised that his mood had switched so quickly.  
"No! "But I" nothing, Rose!" his accent thickened in his anger, making her name come out something like "Rouuse", but she was too shocked to even _think_ about correcting his pronunciation. Elizabeth did not say anything to Rose's defense, just looked at Jake with a frown saying that she was not happy with his approach. "You have been walking about being overjoyed one second and unhappy the next – "  
Rose's eyes widened in terror, "How do you know that?"  
"Please, I spoke to your mother" he brushed her off, unabashed by the glare she was fixing him with, "Says you don't know what you want, did she. But you sure as hell should find out soon, before he up and goes!"

"I don't understand what you're talking about" she insisted, though the cold feeling luring inside her was growing bigger, and she was suddenly terrified. She knew exactly what Jake meant.  
"Yes, I really think you do, and if not, you're more stupid than I thought. You talk about unfairness and how you aren't satisfied, and yet you can't see all what he has done for you? Maybe if you just managed to see past the tip of your nose - " he pointed at said body part to emphasize his point, "You would not be that ungrateful. The Doctor – " he drew in a deep breath, "Has done you a great favor, and you are too self-involved to even see it. Knowing that he could never give you his life, he gave you someone just as good, who will grew older and who loves you. And you repay him by ruining everything for yourself."

Rose stood as well, very much prepared for telling him off, but for once she did not have a smart comeback. She was speechless, and it stung to know that he was right; she just did not want to acknowledge it.  
Jake's breathing came out in harsh pants, like he had just run half a marathon, but his eyes were sharp and cool, awaiting her answer.  
Stuttering she complied, "It's not my fault."  
"It bloody well is, if he leaves. Don't you see how much you confuse him? One moment you want the Metacrisis there and you call him "Doctor", the next you think that he's not the right one. Even though you say something else, you refuse to see that he might not _want_ to be your Doctor. Perhaps he doesn't want to replace him, he want you to want to want _him_"  
"How would you know?"  
"Because I think everyone would want that" he said, voice pained and full of emotions, showing that he had too much personal experience with wanting, "I know that you miss him. But pushing him away will not solve anything. It won't make you less alone."  
He stormed out the room, grapping his jacket and bag along the way, and slamming the door shut behind him with a curt, "I'm taking rest o' the day off".

Exhausted, but hardly noticing since she was paralyzed with astonishment, Rose slumped back into her chair, wincing when it hit the wall and sent a jolt up her back, but she thought that she deserved it. The shock soon gave way to a feeling of hollowness, and she only realized that Elizabeth was talking to her when the other woman shook her shoulder gently, "You know he's right, yes?"  
"I do" she said, "What he said… About everyone wanting to be seen as who they are… Was he talking about…?"

"Of course he was" Elizabeth tilted her head, scrutinizing her through her red-rimmed glasses.  
"Mickey" Rose whispered her lost friend's name with bated breath. To think… She had not even considered that the whole mess with the Doctor during their final showdown with the Darleks had taken something from Jake as well. He always seemed so tough and in control, it was hard to tell when anything bothered him, but she had seen it in his eyes the moment before – sorrow, despair and endless hopefulness. Mickey had left with Martha and Jack, and it had broken Jake; Rose knew that know, but she had been too focused on her own pain that she had not seen it. She knew they had been close, best friends even, but she had not considered the possibility that Jake might…It made her feel guilty, for some reason.

"Jake… Was he in love with Mickey?"  
"He was not in love with him, he loved him" Her friend said, keeping her elegant hands busy with searching through some files, "There's a difference. Love is poweful, but it can also hurt, so you have to know where you stand. Jake did, and he still lost him. I know you say _he_ isn't the right one, but still… Would you risk that?"

Rose ran. Of course she did. What else was there, really?


	7. Let's make it grand

**Let's make it grand**

The door to her mother and father's bedroom burst open with a loud "bang" and Rose tumbled inside, cheeks flushed and stitch in her side so bad she almost crumbled to the floor. Her heart was racing after the spurt from her car, and she had to take three deep breaths before she was able to do anything else than pant. Finally looking up she saw both of her parents staring at her in part worry, part surprise. Her Mom was sitting cross-legged on the bed, polishing her toenails with a bright pink colour, while Pete was fiddling with the tie around his neck, groaning and frowning like was it rocket science he was performing at not the task of tying a couple knots. Jackie stood up and walked over – or limped, rather, since having pieces of cotton wool pressed inbetween the toes to help the paint dry prevented her from doing anything more graceful –, looking anxious. She moved carefully, like she was afraid her daughter would bolt again if confronted. Rose didn't, though.

"Where's he gone off to?" she asked instead, without even needing to be specific as to who "he" was, since her mother clearly understood.  
"What's happened?" Jackie said, crease between her eyebrows growing deeper, "He looked so gloomy when we met in the front hall, I didn't dare ask him what was wrong." A slight spark of anger lit up her eyes, "You haven't gone and got him mad, now have you?"  
A sharp reply like _"Please, not you, too"_ was on Rose's tongue, but knowing Jackie was right; she just nodded her head forlornly. She looked up at her Mom, and said pleadingly "I have to make him stay."  
Jackie's gaze grew soft when she realized the state her daughter was in, so she finally told her; "He's in the garden. Now go."

Rose did not waste any further time with formalities. She ran through the corridors and down the stairs like a Dalek fleet was at her heels, apologizing to several of the house's maids and servants for nearly crashing straight into them, until finally she reached her destination through the big glass door in the living room. She stepped out into the garden and took a moment to take a deep breath – the smell of grass and the sound of birds singing felt good on her senses and her frayed nerves, and the view of the park would never ceased to astonish her. Having grown up in a small apartment in middleclass London, it had taken some time getting used to all this _space_. She would never grow tired of walking around the big grounds for hours, lying on a blanket on the lawn sun-bathing, or of visiting the archery area for a few hours of solitary practice. Sometimes having a rich parent was real swell. Following a slightly sardonic hunch she went for the rose bushes first. Though a little cliché, Rose knew that the Doctor was sentimental enough to seek refuge at that place. And she was right.

The rose meadow was one of her favorite places – the mesmerizing smell and the brightly colored petals of the fragile flowers were a treat for both eyes and nose. The plants were surrounding a small pond rimmed by polished marble stones, and climbed up the back of a very intricately designed white bench. It looked like something from a Disney castle's garden, and the looming figure standing by the edge of the pond, tall and proud and dressed in a dark suit, only served to perfect the comparison. Rose's heart skipped a beat when she saw his expression. Where it before, back in the library, had been etched with worry and sadness, his features were now relaxed and softened, like his walk in the garden had soothed his soul. He looked so peaceful that she for just a second considered leaving him be – just turn around and walk away. But she felt that she owed him an explanation, and this was as good a place as any to give it to him.

So Rose discretely cleared her throat, not wanting to surprise him too much with her presence, and went over to stand beside him. He did not looked faced at all, though, and it was very clear that he had known she was there the entire time and had just waited for her to make a move.  
"Mum said you'd be here" Rose said tentatively. It took all of her self-restraint to not throw herself into his arm and beg for him to stay.  
A slight grin made his lips turn upwards, "Of course. I'm quite convinced Jackie knows just about anything that goes on in this house at all times."  
There was a teasing note to his voice, and Rose breathed a quiet sigh of relief. It would have been so horrible if her attempt at stirring up a conversation had ended in nothing but awkward silence.  
Staring at their reflection in the rippling surface of the water in the pond, she carefully asked him, "Are you okay?"

She was a little anxious that he might brush away her question like he sometimes did, off-handedly telling her that there was nothing to worry about, but thankfully he looked completely genuine when he said, "I'm fine. I just needed… I needed some time to gather my thoughts. You know what I mean?"  
"Yeah", Rose nodded, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have interrupted you."  
"Nah, it's fine. I missed you" he said earnestly, and instead of looking down, she fixed her gaze at his eyes – deep and brown and so familiar it almost ached.  
"I missed you, too." She admitted, taking his hand and feeling immensely happy when he squeezed it, "I think we need to talk"

It sounded silly, since they had done nothing but talk these last few weeks, but it all seemed empty now that Rose knew that they had never gotten around to the topics that really needed discussing. The things that weighted heavily on her conscience and clouded her contentment with shadows. It was time to stop lying to herself. Or to him.  
"I think we do" the Doctor said solemnly and did not object when she led him to the bench and pulled him down beside her, "I'm sorry"  
"Me too" Rose said simply, then added after having done some considering for a few seconds, "We just haven't been honest with each other. Or I haven't been, at least." Try as she might, she could not tear her eyes away from his at that moment. They were so alive and so warm and just a little hopeful. "I wanted to tell you – "  
"Rose, may I ask you something?"  
"Of course" she said, eyebrows raised a little in surprised – she had not expected him to interrupt her, but he looked serious and determined, so she did not dare point out that he had been a little rude.  
"Did you – " he swallowed like the words had a hard time getting past his throat and had to be forced out of his mouth, "Did you see anyone while I was… Gone? Not that I'd blame you for doing so, or anything, since strictly you and I weren't… Well… Did you?"

God, did she want to say no. It would be the easier thing, but Rose had discovered today that an easy decision did not always equal the best one, and it was she who had spoken about honesty just a moment before. He deserved to know the true answer to a question that clearly bothered him. "I did. Just once. It lasted only a couple o' months."  
The Doctor nodded, taking in the new information with a calm sort of grace.  
"Why did you end it?"  
She felt a smile edge itself onto her lips at his strong conviction that it was she who had broken up with the guy and not the other way around.  
"He wasn't you"  
His expression softened visibly and darkened with guilt. "Rose…"  
"No." she said with a quick hand gesture, effectively shutting him up, "Don't feel sorry for me. The only reason I even initiated anything with him was that Mum kept bugging me about the fact that I didn't leave the house at all after my last return from Norway. She said it was unhealthy for me to be cooped in like that and made a big fuss about it until I finally agreed to attend one of my colleagues at Torchwood's birthday party. I went and met this guy named Seamus. He was sweet and attentive and intelligent …"  
"But…?"

"But he just wasn't you" she repeated with a shrug, "He couldn't compare. I found that out after two months of dating. He did not get mad when I quit the whole thing, just said that he already had guessed that my heart was with… Someone else."  
Rose closed her eyes for a second in reminiscence –Seamus had been a very kind and very understanding man, and she had actually liked him a lot, though not in the way expected of her. It was not his fault that she had not been able to make up her mind, and Rose was thankful that he had wanted to remain friends after their breakup. They had not seen a lot of each other since last year when he moved to Oxford, but every once in a while when he was in London, they would get together for lunch and catch up. The air between them was nice and easy, and it was apparent that they were much better at being friends than lovers.

Rose realized that she was getting off track. The most important thing right now was to reach the point where she explained her earlier behavior, not to awaken some competitive instinct of the Doctor's by mentioning an ex. He had gotten an unreadable expression on his face when she mentioned Seamus. So she quickly moved on to filling the silence, "That kiss, earlier…"  
"Was awfully rash of me" he said resolutely, "I had no right to corner you like that, and I am sorry"  
"No" Rose shook her head heftily, "That wasn't what I was going to say. Besides, you backed off at soon as you saw that I was uncomfortable, so you didn't really corner me. The thing is…". She looked away from him and let her gaze drift to their joined hands – her small and soft fingers entwined with his longer, more calloused ones. It looked right, and it felt right. It might also _be_ right. She wanted it to be. "I wanted you to do it. But then I stopped cos…"  
"Cos you realized I weren't him" there was an endless sadness to those words, and suddenly Rose couldn't get it all off her chest fast enough. She might be babbling, but she did not really care, cos she had hurt him already and it was time she stopped.

"No you aren't, and that's what Jake made me see!" she said, holding his gaze with an almost feverish intensity, feeling dazed by the intoxicating smell of the roses wafting through her nostrils and the deep and just as thrilling look he was regarding her with. It lingered on her skin like an electric current, "You're not him, you are you, and that did not made sense to me, but it does now. I thought I wanted that Doctor and forgot… No, ignored that you are your own person, even though I thought I had come to terms with it and that I knew what I wanted. And I am sorry if I made you feel like you had to be something that you are not. I really am."

Silence fell like a heavy blanket for a few seconds, and Rose actually thought it would be more appropriate if the sun would stop shining and the birds cease their happy singing, since they contradicted the heavy seriousness of the moment.

Finally the Doctor said, frown evident beneath his tussled brown bangs, "I could leave".  
The world stilled around Rose and time slowed down and stopped, like the hands of the broken clock in Reinette's room had stopped moving across the pale surface. Her voice failed her for a few seconds where she just sat with open mouth, gaping like a fish out of water, before she stammered, "What, I… What?"  
"It would make it easier on you." He spoke softly, like she was some little animal he was approaching with caution, "If I left, you wouldn't have to be reminded of him whenever you looked at me, and be hurt. It would be for the best. I can't be _the_ Doctor, we spoke about that… that night. You could be _free_, Rose"  
The way he put pressure on "free", it sounded like he knew what would be best for her, when in truth he could not be more wrong.

"Where would you go?" she asked in a small voice, holding onto his hand with all her might to make sure he didn't just disappear, evaporated into thin air or melted or something.  
"The world is plenty big, I'll find somewhere." He said, a forced smile on his lips, "I've given it a lot of thought, and – "  
"Apparently not enough! I have tried being free, and it didn't work out! Ask anyone!" Rose hissed, lacing ugly sarcasm into the last part of her sentence. She knew she was being irrational and childish, but this _wasn't _going as planned. It was supposed to end with them having talked and worked through their problems, not with him just deciding to leave because he thought it would be "for the best". Her breath came out in big, heaving gasps, and the Doctor looked like he was truly worried that she would hyperventilate. The sad thing was that he probably wasn't too far off the mark on that one.  
"Didn't you hear what I just said?" she demanded, letting go of his hand to instead knot her fists tightly, "I want you to stay! Here! With me! I don't…"  
Her shoulders were shaking from the pressure of all the emotions washing over her, and his soft hands on her arms did nothing to help her maintain control, cos the only thing they served to do was to remind her of how much she would miss him if he left.

"Please don't go". She hated that she sounded so tiny and fragile, but she had to make him understand, _needed_ him to understand.  
His finger dug into her arms and it hurt a bit, but she hardly noticed, to fixated on his mouth as he said; "I just want you to be happy"  
"Then _stay_" she pleaded, "If you want to make me happy, then stay".

And then she closed the short distance between them, grasped his face between her hands to bloody make sure he didn't go anywhere, and kissed him. The Doctor froze at the contact; she could feel the tenseness in his body as it was pressed close to hers, and his shock in the hands roaming about feebly without finding a safe spot to rest. Rose wanted to close her eyes to the sensation, but she could not tear them away from the uneasiness that was clouding his. She was about to pull away and apologize when she noticed a flash of resolution lightening up his face. His hands settled on the small of her back, and his mouth was suddenly warm and alive against hers, and he was kissing her and holding her with the same amount of intensity that had always been present in everything he did – from running about saving planets from colliding, to figuring out some seemingly impossible puzzle put before him. She had wanted it to be chaste and sweet, but had instead gotten passion and exhilaration that would have swept her off her feet if she had not already been sitting. They had been dancing around each other for long enough - a long, long game that none of them could win but which both of them had had a grave possibility of losing. Rose was on fire, lost in the searing intensity of it all, with only the Doctor's strong touches to soothe her, and for once he did not pull her apart like he had done it so many times before, only mended her and built her back, formed her like clay between his fingers, into someone who cared and who loved freely. It had started raining; a light drizzle which Rose barely noticed was it not for the chilly prickling against her heated skin.

A semi-embarrassing sigh – which she would forever deny had been hers – drowned between their mouths, and she let her hands leave his lightly stubble-covered cheeks, secure that he would stay right where he was, and allowed them instead to stray downwards and slip around his shoulders. A low sound erupted from his throat, and to Rose's utter amusement it made a decent comparison to the purr of a content cat. She decided that she loved it and wanted to hear more, but before she could make that her mission she really needed to -

"Breathe" she gasped when the lack of oxygen started to do funky things to her throat, before pulling away a little. She studied the Doctor's face and smiled at what she saw. He looked ridiculously well-kissed, chestnut eyes dazed and hair tussled from the last few seconds of their kissing in which she had dug her fingers into the soft tresses to figure out what it felt like to touch. His lips were swollen and red, and when she put a hand in the middle of his chest she could feel his heart beating up a samba beneath her palm. Their eyes met, and a huge, dazzling grin spread across the Doctor's face.

"I just snogged Rose Tyler" he laughed kind of breathlessly.  
"Yeah you did" she agreed with a huge, silly smile that matched his perfectly, "Wow."  
"I've still got it, wouldn't you say?" he inquired, pursing his lips and sticking his nose skywards in an attempt at haughtiness, but failing miserably. Rose played along, though, "Of course."  
"You weren't half-bad yourself"  
"Oh you sweet talker, you" she said, punching him in mock bashfulness and snickering when he winced. Then he looked around with a frown, and Rose got a little worried, only to relax when he motioned towards the trees and announced; "I halfway expected your mother to barge in and make a scene."  
"Hush" she said, laughing at the trueness of his statement, before hesitating for a few second. "I think she'd be happy about… This thing". She gestured towards the space between them, which had not been there a moment before.  
He nodded, then looked her over curiously, "There's a thing?"  
Contemplating, Rose chewed on her lip before poking out the tongue between them in her own trademark style, "I would like for there to be a thing." She said, suddenly feeling very vulnerable as she waited for his answer, "John". That last word, his former alias, just popped into her mind - finally it felt right to say it out loud and not like she was betraying someone.  
Relief and exhausted happiness slipped onto the Doctor – or John's? – face, and he silently said, "Thank you", though Rose was sure that it was she who ought to say that to him, over and over again. He had given her so much and was also a gift himself, which she had taken for granted until now. It wouldn't happen again.

"John" she said again, balancing the name on the tip of her tongue, wondering how it could be so thrilling in its plain simplicity. It was a great name, really, and it fit him so well, also because it had a history. Everything concerning him had, really. The Doctor, and the Doctor John Smith. Rose knew that it would take some time adjusting to her new mindset, to respect this Doctor as an individual, but still acknowledge him as the man she had travelled marvelous galaxies with. But she also knew that she could do it. She had a chance to be part of something grand, and she was going to take that chance. She was going to make it work this time.

"Let's go back home" he said softly as he stood up. He tugged at her hand in a beckoning motioned, and Rose obliged quickly, nodding her consent.  
"Yeah. Let's"

So hey, done, another chapter. As I said, I'm practicing a lot of things, like drama, and mood, and kissing, and making people be sad and cry without making it a total sob-story.

Therefore I hope you'll like it and give me some reviews – that would be lovely.


	8. Bananas are good

**Bananas are good**

"Lucky cat?" the elderly Chinese lady asked once again, persistently poking the Doctor in the face with the small, obscenely grinning plastic toy, all the while regarding them with a toothless smile and eyes that would likely be gleaming had they not been covered with wrinkled skin. The shop manager meant well, Rose knew, but that did not make her efforts to palm her stuff of on them any less annoying, and Rose's voice was strained from having been forced to remain pleasant and level for the entirety of the lady's sales speech (Why would they need authentic mandarin-styled fans, anyway?). "No thank you. Could you just…" she made a grimace, hoping that it would resemble a smile, before making a waving motion between her and the Doctor, "We'll just browse around, yeah?"

The woman's face fell with disappointment, and Rose almost felt bad about letting her down. That quickly stopped, though, as China-lady leaned in closer to study Rose's face more intently. Rose winced slightly under her scrutinizing gaze (how the lady managed that with hidden eyes, Rose had no idea) and had to forcibly keep herself from not slipping her hand into the Doctor's. The last thing they needed was for the shop's owner to -

"Oooh! You are Tyler girl!"  
Too late. Now the urge to take Doctor John's hand had been replaced with one to face-palm herself, and she wished she could just disappear into a tiny hole for all eternity – or at least for as long as it took for the local television stations to stop stalking them wherever they went (that is why they had hoped to find solace in the shop in the first place). She was bloody tired of it, but even so it was her companion's well-being that worried her the most. Being the daughter of the internationally famous Vitex-founder, Peter Tyler, had brought her into the public camera lens from the moment she had been introduced as his family member who had been gone for years but had finally returned. The Doctor, though, was not in any way accustomed to this ruckus, and Rose's hope of making his transition into a normal life as a human as smooth as possible was quickly shattered. He was a big bundle of nervous energy, which Rose found a little odd. He ought to be used to being a center of attention after his countless run-ins with hostile species. He had had to show off all his charismatic skills in big gatherings to get them out of whatever pickle they were in. Now he could not have looked anymore uncomfortable had he been sitting all day on a barbed wire fence. But the attention of one tiny little Asian female was enough to put him on edge? She had not seen that coming.

"I… Well, yes, but…" Rose stammered, but thankfully she was saved by her friend who, even though his eyes were a little too wide, managed to speak evenly. "Give us a minute, please"  
"You new Mr. Tyler, Sir?" the lady asked with her heavily accented English, crocking her head like a curious owl, and now it was the Doctor's turn to sputter incoherently and Rose who received the task of pulling him further into the darkness of the shop and away from the woman who, fortunately, could not leave her post at the cash register. She finally stopped at a section sporting row after row of multicolored liquids stuffed in bottles of all shapes and sizes, ending in front of a tiny bottle labeled _Nightshade extract – drink to make it spin!__  
_The content was a bright and toxic-looking purple color, and as he leaned down to study it further, the Doctor managed to look incredulous, disapproving and exited at the same time. "I hardly think it's legal to sell that stuff" Rose pointed out to her friend who just stood there with a dreamy expression on his face, like he was eyeing a world of possibilities. "You're quite right, Nightshade's very poisonous – still, if we – "  
"No" she said and dragged him away, both of them laughing like naughty children who had just been caught red-handed. Unfortunately they had both forgotten the eminent danger they were in, and had therefore not realized how loud they had been laughing. "Miss Tyler, can I get a comment on the rumor going around about – "

It might not have been the Doctor's best idea to point the banana from his pocket at the poor young man, but to be fair, the intruder had, by sneaking up on them, scared the living hell out of a very resourceful ex-alien who was more than a little anxious at the moment. One might say that the man and his camera wielding crew had it coming. Their hands flew up over their heads like in a stick-up, cameras crashing to the floor in a messy pile, and Rose was quite sure that if they'd had a white flag they would be waving it vigorously.

They all stood in stunned silence – well, except for tiny-Chinese-lady, who was walking about with her lucky cat and cackling with excitement -, Rose and the Doctor in front of a television reporter and his two camera men, until finally one of the guys from the last mentioned pair hesitantly said, "That's a… banana."  
The reporter's frightened expression turned into one of immense relief, and his arms dropped back down from their hilarious position of surrender. The scowling Doctor rolled his eyes and snapped, "Of course it is, you buffoon. What'd you think it was, a gun? You haven't got quite that annoying yet, but perhaps I'll reconsider if you really – "  
"John, please" Rose interrupted him urgently, a warning note in her voice. He turned towards her with a troubled look and hissed beneath his breath to keep the blonde reporter from hearing, "Why did we leave the house again?"  
"Because you wanted to eat chips!"  
"Yes, but I did not – "  
"Mr. Smith, is there trouble in Paradise?" the reporter asked, then quickly took a step back as the questioned man whirled around and stared daggers at him.  
"No, there's – " The Doctor stopped dead in his sentence, "Wait, what? Mr. Tyler? Since when – "  
"Oh!" the young man pressed on with a big grin and a hand gesture to his goons, who moved their cameras even closer, "Will the date of the wedding be announced anytime soon?"

"Oh God" Rose moaned into the palm of her hand. The rumors of her and the Doctor John had travelled through London quick as wildfire, and they got more and more outrageous and odd from day to day. Next thing would be that the "_new man in Tyler-heir's life_!" had killed Jackie out of jealousy of his fiancé's mother's fortune. They were not engaged, and the Doctor certainly weren't in it for the money, though some of the more… inventive writers of the newspaper articles seemed to think so. How they even knew his name – or well, his John Smith alias – was beyond her. Probably someone in the household who had not managed to keep his or her mouth shut.  
"It's all gossip, that's what it is" she insisted, feeling like the Doctor and she were pieces of raw meet in front of a pack of ravenous wolves, and she know that her denial was not helping – on the contrary was it only fueling the fire. No matter what she said, it would only get worse. So she did the best and the worst thing she could possibly do – she grasped the Doctor's coat sleeve and pulled him behind her towards the front door exit of the shop. If they just ignored them, pretended they weren't there… A bead of sweat rolled him Rose's forehead and into her eye (_Why was it so hot in there?_), making it sting and turn red. Behind her the voice of her best friend – along with those of people who would definitely never be – rang out to her with concern, "Rose, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Doctor – ah, John - , let's get out of here. We'll order takeout when we get – "  
"Are your boyfriend occupied with a medical profession, Miss Tyler?" a middle-aged man, seemingly no less persistent than his younger colleague, blocked their path through the doorway, sticking a microphone into the Doctor's face.  
"Well, I'm – " said Doctor started, looking worn and exhausted and God, Rose regretted that they had left the house in the first place. Her patience was wearing dangerously thin, and she was just about ready to start shouting abuse at this new reporter and _his_ camera man, when the Doctor John swiftly raised an extended arm towards the men and bellowed, something yellow flashing in his hand: "Eat Potassium!"

All those present wailed with fright, having not even noticed what utter nonsense the Doctor had said, and dove out of the way of what they thought to be a weapon (_W__e're gonna be in so much trouble when Pete hears 'bout this_ Rose thought crestfallenly), leaving the only mean of escape bare. The two of them stumbled out the door in a less-than-elegant fashion and all but sprinted down the busy London street in their rush to put as far a distance between themselves and the media-people as possible. They kept running until their lungs were arching for air and they could not hear the shop woman yelling angry Chinese curses at them, and when they finally felt safe enough to rest for a second, leaning against the glass wall of some classy clothing shop, they both collapsed in fits of breathless laughter. The people walking by stared at them like they were two escaped patients from a hospital for the mentally ill, but Rose did not care as she turned her head towards her companion and gasped an inquiry: ""_Eat Potassium_"? That's the best you could come up with? Really?"

The Doctor shrugged before leaning forward with his hands on his knees to steady himself, "Bananas are good. You should know, they've saved your sorry arse more than once, if I recall correctly"  
"Yeah" Rose said. The stitch in her side was a painful reminder of what had just happened, but it _had_ felt nice to run again. Wind blowing through her hair as she weaved her way through the stream of people, feeling both so very alive and at the same time like she was on another plane than everyone else, time and space slipping from her grasp, spinning out of control, everything moving so fast and in slow-motion, all in the same moment – and she was spinning willingly with it. There was an awful lot of running involved with this guy, and Rose loved every last second of it.

"What was the Chinese woman yelling after us?" she asked when he breathing had finally become less labored.  
"How should I know?"  
"Well, you are the one who speaks millions of languages… I presumed Chinese was one of them."  
The Doctor John frowned, and Rose thought he looked way to adorable for his own good – hair windblown and tussled and cheeks red from the physical strain.  
"It is. I just had other things to think about. Like legging it." He said matter-of-factly, and Rose felt a jolt of anxiousness that made her limps heavy and tired. It was her fault he was so stressed out. Nothing usually ever passed him by, and certainly not a string of foreign swearwords.  
She asked, "Are you okay, though? I know all the media attention is getting to you, and I'm really, really sorry – "

"I'm fine" he said, smiling kindly, "I'm just not used to…"  
Lacking words to describe what was ailing him, he pointed to the yellow fruit he still held. For any pedestrian his gesture would have seemed cryptic, but Rose understood perfectly. He continued, "I don't have a clue on what to do or how to act in situations like these. It's just shocking, is all. I mean, we've been back from Bad Wolf Bay for what, a month, and left home for the first time only a week ago, and all of a sudden I've proposed to you on a beach on Bananas – "  
"Bahamas, Doctor."  
"I'm well aware." He said nonchalantly, "People think I'm a real doctor. They think I am seducing you for your money, or that I'm seducing your mother for her money – stop smiling like that, 's not funny! -, that I'm overly dependent on bananas – "  
"Which you sort of are" Rose chipped in and received a glare for her comment.  
"That I was involved in the Lumic incident – "  
"Which you _also_ sort of were…"

"Not the point." He snapped. Then his scowl turned into a semi-desperate expression, "How do you cope with them?"  
Rose smiled as she put a comforting hand on his shoulder, "Mostly I ignore them. They usually go away when they realize they won't get what they've come for. But I've been wondering why you are so tense. I know you aren't used to cameras up your face, but you've had peoples' attention in much worse situations than this. Darleks. Sycorax."  
"Yes, but normally I just point a sword at them and say "I'm the Doctor" threateningly, and they go away. Human reporters are much more vicious"  
"Don't do that here, I don't want them to think that my murder-medic-fiancé is a freak" Rose said, trying her best to keep a straight face but failing hopelessly. The Doctor grinned with her, and all of a sudden she felt more relaxed than she had just a few moments before. He did that to her.

"Point taken" he chuckled, and a second later he leaned in to kiss her. Just a peck on the cheek, unnoticed in the busy buzzing of the street, but it sent Rose's heart soaring and it felt like she was burning where his lips touched. They had only kissed a few times since that faithful first one in the rose garden, and only small gentle ones, since they in silent agreement had decided that they should take it slow. So that sort of went against the most recent headline on neo-BBC News; _Rose Tyler baby alarm?__  
_It was not even a good title, though that really should not be a thing that irritated her as much as what it implied. But then again, the Doctor and she had colored the front pages of almost every gossip magazine since they first appeared in public together, and nothing should be able to surprise her – well, unless the journalists got the idea that John Smith was a former alien, and that would both be slightly alarming and also the only true thing that had been written about the two of them during the last seven days.

She looked at him with a tiny smile, and asked: "Ready to go home?"  
"Yeah. And then Torchwood tonight?"  
Rose smiled at his words and nodded – he had finally come to terms with the fact that he would have to become acquainted with the Torchwood organization in Parallel World, and today was as good a time as any. "If you wish to, Spock" she said and grinned at his perplexed expression, which was quickly followed by a mock frown and a growled, "Don't you _dare_ make people think I'm a Star Trek fanatic, Miss Tyler".  
"I'm sorry, Mr. Smith"

Their fingers intertwined as if it was the most natural thing in the world – probably was – and as the Doctor made a shrill whistling voice, seven black cabs stopped, seemingly involuntarily, and parked where the two of them were standing. All the drivers looked more than a little surprised at what had just happened, and the culprit beamed as a ray of sunshine as Rose chose a car for the ride. On the way to the outskirts of the city where the Tyler mansion was located, she looked towards the sky with a content smile. A handful of silver-grey zeppelins hovering above their heads like regal, steel-colored creatures soaring through the sky, tangible proofs of how technologically advanced the parallel London of the Peoples' Republic really was in comparison to her old world.

The Doctor John noticed her upturned gaze and leant across the seats to look out the same window as her. A slight smile crossed his lips and he asked her: "Have you tried flying in one of those?"  
She grinned mirthfully, "I've tried flying one of them"  
"Yes, that's what I ask – wait, you've tried… Like, as in you steered the whole thing?" he said, gaping at her like a stranded fish, "You didn't tell me about that!"  
"Cos I'm not that good at it" she answered humbly, but with shining eyes, secretly enjoying his bafflement, "It was a birthday present from Pete and Mum".  
He grumbled at that, "It'll be pretty hard to top a millionaire's gifts. Everything pales in comparison."  
She gave his shoulder a friendly nudge, "You've got a good while to come up with something, Christmas isn't 'til two months."  
He nodded, "I know, but these sorts of things tends to sneak up on me. Never mind that! Tell you what" he said with animated glee, "If you let me try your zeppelin – has it got a name? I'll name it, from now on its Bertie, like the nickname of George the sixth – I'll… Well…" he gazed at her with pleading eyes, "Please let me try your Bertie, Rose"

Rose frowned at him and said in a teasing tone, "I don't think you are responsible enough yet to take care of a zeppelin, John"  
"But I take – or well, took – good care of my Tardis!" he insisted. They had stopped at a red light, and the cabbie was looking at them through the corner of his eye in a sort of anxious way. He probably thought they were drunk or delusional (or both), but that was okay, Rose thought, as long as he did not recognize the Tyler-heir and her boyfriend.  
She smirked, "Half the times we didn't land where you intended us to"  
"Yeah" he said with a big silly grin, "It was fun, wasn't it?"  
"Always"  
"You enjoyed our travels, yes?"  
"Never stopped" she cracked a smile at him, and knew at once that it had been the right thing to say.  
"Me neither" he answered, returning the smile before suddenly looking a little shy, "I think I want to kiss you. Can I?"  
The exact same words as that day in the library, but the circumstances were different, and this time Rose did not hesitate with her reply.


	9. She never really left

**She never really left**

"Stop that, you'll only make it worse!" Elizabeth insisted, looking slightly panicked despite herself as she dug deeper into the first-aid kit, which thankfully was always full of whatever medical equipment they might need (and working at Torchwood, the field of what you might require to fix your ailments was pretty extensive).  
"But it itches" the Doctor John whimpered, scratching at his upper arm where very red and very ugly blisters were bursting forth on the before smooth skin. Rose forcefully pulled his hand away both to prevent him from making matters worse and to give Elizabeth room to tend to the welts with some sort of ointment. "John, try to relax. Deep breaths" she told him, and only allowed herself to breathe through her mouth, cos –

"Christ! It smells like a rancid old arse!" Sandy added, pinching her nostrils firmly between a thumb and an index finger to block out the stench coming from the Doctor's wound along with an oozing mass of disgusting yellow puss. She looked at the substance in horror, and she weren't the only one; Thomas, Camille and Bo were staring as well, varying degrees of disgust on their faces, while Jake was still struggling to get the Jukar locked away in its cage. Turned out it was not an easy task, since the tiny creature was fully equipped with talons twice as long as its body, sharp teeth and quite a fierce temper, which made it much more difficult to handle – but Jake also had the whole temper thing down, so he was more than a match for it. Snarling and growling like a wolf he all but tossed the alien into its metal prison, then shut and bolted the hatch.

He returned his attention to the other members of the organization and nodded in agreement to Sandy' accusation, "Affirmative. Doctor, what did I _just_ tell you about touching the species we've got under observation?"  
John sniffed inaudible before answering, "That I… Shouldn't do it?"  
"And what _did_ you do?"  
"I touched it" he answered; gaze down-cast in shame, like a dog that had just been caught by its master after having peed on the carpet, "But it was all curled up, I thought it was just a pelt".  
Jake nodded slowly, then snapped, giving them all a shock, "Why?"  
"Because I'm the Doctor!" the Doctor John protested, "That's what I do, I touch things!"  
"I bet he does" Camille muttered beneath her breath, just barely loud enough for Rose to hear. Rose just rolled her eyes and tried to soothe the Doctor who started to hiss as Elizabeth applied a generous amount of the balm to his skin.

Rose was deeply thankful towards Bo who came over to sit with them and also attempted to put the patient's thoughts off his treatment. "So Doctor, first time at the Torchwood office! How do you like it so far?"  
"It's… Better than I thought it would be." Was the answer through gritted teeth, and Rose smiled; she knew it took a lot out of him to admit that he had been mistaken, "But I do not approve of the fact that you lock away other species."  
"Only if they're hostile and only until we find a way to send them back to their own planet. The Jukar that you let loose crash-landed in Whitechapel eight days ago and started attacking the residents, so we had to secure it."  
"I still don't like it" the offended ex-timelord grumbled, and though his voice was strained with pain, his expression, flashing with emotion, still conveyed the message very well, _If you do anything to piss me off…_

It was riveting to see this darker, more dangerous side of the Doctor create a storm in his eyes, but Rose would never admit to have thought that. She would just be mercilessly teased by Camille and Thomas about her being so infatuated with him that it was bordering on being stupid, and she would like to avoid that for the time being. It probably shone through, though, whenever she looked at him. Rose had been working with her Torchwood coworkers for so long that they all were sometimes uncannily in sync with each other, and they had learned to read her like an open book unless she was careful with what her facial expression showed. And it was common knowledge that if there was one thing one never was around the Doctor, it was careful.

The mood had become pretty tense with the Doctor's last unsaid "remark", so Rose tried to lighten it by saying to Bo "We actually partly came here because we have a proposition. Or a favour to ask."  
"We do?" The Doctor John said, turning towards her. As did the rest of the people in the room and Jake dropped down beside them on the bench. Rose felt a short rush of relieve at seeing that he had not been hurt in his fight with the Jukar other than a few inconsiderable scratches. It was the creature's caustic spit that had transformed the Doctor's skin into an ugly mess, not its' talons. Bo rose to the bait, just as eager as her to change the topic to something less vicious. "Go ahead. After all, we owe you two already"  
"You do?" This time it was Rose's turn to look surprised, "Why?"  
"Well" Bo grinned, "It's thanks to you that Torchwood even exists."  
"Yes, but not here. In 1879, with the werewolf in the Torchwood mansion, Queen Victoria knighted us and then announced the creation of the organization. In this world she died. We weren't there to prevent it".

She suppressed a shudder at the memory that forcibly entered her mind. The frantic chase in that huge, dark house… Bolting through the corridors, adrenaline pumping through veins as a howl, eerie enough to turn ones' blood to ice, pierced the quiet that had before only been interrupted by the fierce pounding of a terrified heart… Turning around the corners with no idea of what waited on the other side… She had felt so helpless, and so alone, and she had wanted to give up and surrender so badly. But she hadn't, because she knew with not a shadow of doubt that the Doctor was counting on her and needed her. She didn't want to disappoint him, and so she kept running across the polished floors that were slippery with the blood of Sir Robert Macleish.

"I'm done" Elizabeth said as she applied the last of the ointment and then packed away the box into her kit. The Doctor grimaced as he pulled down the sleeve of his suit, but he still thanked her for her help.

"Yes, but still" Bo continued. He shrugged and smiled in his own carefree fashion, totally oblivious to the fact that the blonde girl was slipping into herself, her pale hands clenched in silent terror, "You were the cause of a great thing happening. What would your old world have done without Torchwood?"  
"Yes, what a relief." She said in a chilly voice, sarcasm lacing into her words, and Bo looked like she had struck him. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the Doctor staring at her, facial features set in an ambivalent mixture of worry and wonder.  
She instantly felt bad about her outburst. It wasn't Bo's fault that the queen Victoria had deemed them too dangerous to roam around the world unobserved. "I'm sorry. We've had a long day with some journalists following us around, and the 1879-thing is kind of a sore spot".

"That's okay", Bo quickly recovered, and only looked a little shaken as he asked: "So… What do you need?"  
Rose's throat felt thick and stuffed, and she didn't trust her ability to speak, so she fixed her gaze at the Doctor John who understood the quiet plead. He said: "We want to grow a new Tardis". He fished up a tiny bundle from the inside of his jacket and unwrapped the soft fabric to reveal the piece of version 40 coral. "We got this from…" he looked over at Rose with the slightest hint of insecurity in his dark eyes, and she smiled at him, encouraging him to continue. "- From a friend. A good friend" he finished before continuing with the request, "So therefore we were wondering if it would be okay for us to borrow one of those time-watches you have in your possession. We would like to go back in time and plant this coral. Then when we return to the 21st century, it will have grown to its proper size."  
Bo looked around, establishing eye contact with Sandy, Thomas, Camille and Jake. Jake was grinning like a lunatic, eyes shining with excitement. The other three nodded their contentment in a more serious manner. "Of course you can, no question. We trust the Doctor and his Rose" (he smirked as the Doctor blushed fiercely, though the Time Lord did look a little pleased with this description).  
"But John" Rose said, redirecting his attention to her. She was frowning as she asked: "Weren't there some other way? I mean… Donna said…" she stopped dead in her tracks, the memory of the last goodbye at Bad Wolf Bay still a little too painful to talk about.  
"I know she did, but that was actually the method she mentioned. It's either her idea or waiting five hundred years, and I don't think we can't wait it out, stubborn as you may be. This will be much quicker, I promise you" the Doctor said helpfully, facial features having set themselves in a kind smile as he squeezed her hand, "Donna said _"__if you shatterfry the plasmic shell and modify the dimensional stabilizer to a foldback harmonic of 36.3, you accelerate the growth by the__ power of 59"_. He had quoted it perfectly, and Rose was, as per usual, amused by his ability to remember something so correctly. And he wasn't done: "So if we follow her advice, we might be able to grow a Tardis within the span of normal human life!"  
"Meaning…?" Elizabeth asked hesitantly.  
"Meaning" he said, calm and patient as always, "That if we go back that timespan – like a hundred years, maybe a hundred and fifty to be on the safe side –, sow this seed and do some wizardy hoodoo, we'll be able to find a grown ship in this very decade".  
His companion's face lit up in a soft smile, "Donna's excellent." she said, and he nodded, but in solemn way she did not understand and which made her anxious.  
"All my companions, all my friends, are excellent." He said, tone light. She decided to ask him about it later, and just humour him for now.

"But when and where would you like to go?" Sandy asked, deliberately adding consideration to the time period, "It would have to be someplace safe, so it can grow undisturbed, and you should of course try to avoid troubled periods."  
"So we just rule out wars, revolutions and epidemics" Rose said, ticking each issue off on her fingers.  
"Why epidemics? We just go back, plant the Tardis and then get the heck out of there before we get in contact with anyone" John enquired.  
Rose shook her head firmly, "Remember New New York?"  
"Ooooh" he said, eyes widening in quick realization, "Of course. We couldn't have that."  
On the floor by her feet Jake chuckled in overbearing exasperation, turning his eyes upwards at them like they were witnessing children's' antiques. "Sometimes it's like you only speak in insider jokes. What's this New New York?"  
The Time lord could not resist the temptation of making silly Science Fiction references, "A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away we visited the glorious city of the fifteenth New York of New Earth…!"  
Rose chipped in, "Well, actually it's in the future."  
"Oi!" the Doctor exclaimed, and Rose could not help being taken a little back by his outburst, which was more Donna's trademark sound than his own. _Well, he _does_ have some Donna in him, that's true… _

"Hush now" Thomas said, covering his friend's mouth teasingly while looking at the Doctor as a sign that he could now continue uninterrupted. Camille leaned forward, head resting in her hands and face set in an expression of rapt fascination like she was about to hear a fairytale. Rose was actually also quite interested in hearing the Doctor's view on this exact story. Her own version of the adventure was lacking at best, since she had spent most of it trying to fight Cassandra's mind out of her body with varying degrees of success.

The Doctor began the story with a flourishing sweep of his arms, like he was some professional storyteller. He might be, Rose thought, with his voice as smooth and compelling as it was. He wove the elements of their adventure like fine threads of silk into a shimmering and nuanced fabric, dark and rough at the worst moments - the terrifying ones where they thought they wouldn't make it out, trapped inside the hospital and forever wrapped in its cruel lies -, and level and gentle when they walked into the light and the deadly sick but so very, very alive people discovered that they weren't incurable. John kept sending her his Rose-smile, soft and sweet and genuine, making sure that she knew that this one was really for her. A kind appreciation of what they had done and accomplished together. And though she had come to understand that Doctor John and the Doctor had merged into one person, it now became strikingly clear how very true that statement was. Speaking of their journey which such passion and power behind every word as he kept them all on the edge of the seat with was going to happen next – making them laugh and gasp and ask questions at the right times with no effort at all – showed that he had finally accepted that the memories were his as well. They did not have to belong to one of them, the Metacrisis or the Original. They could share them.

Rose made sure to add from her own experience of the episode whenever the Doctor lapsed into short term hesitation caused by the bits and pieces he did not remember, being possessed by Cassandra as he momentarily had been as well. Together they built the story, grinning so much the dialogue between them broke down more than once, before they would continue, tossing the figurative ball between them in a perfect recounting. Tears of laughter were trickling down her cheeks when she told of her encounter with the woman who spoke out of the skin of her butt, and she realized that she was a pretty good storyteller as well, from the both impressed and completely mortified looks she received.

"And then she called him _Foxy_! Oh Gods – "

…"And I said to Rose _"Watch out __for the disinfectant"_! She said she became totally soaked!"

…"I so didn't! I was just surprised! Oh, you should have seen her dancing in the Doctor's body, it looked hilarious"

…"And they didn't even have a shop, what kind of hospital _is_ that anyway?"

…"She called me a bitch! Her! Well, that's rich!"

…"She was compressing Rose to dead, and I said – "

_"Give her back to me!" he sneered, not able to keep his anger under control, as he pointed the sonic screwdriver at Cassandra in Rose's body. This made th__e captured Rose struggle even harder against the mental binding she had been forced under. It was like being kept in a tiny dark cage, and she was throwing her whole being towards the bars, desperately crying out for him in her overfilled mind and fighting__ Cassandra for control, even though she knew it was a losing battle. Rose's screaming rang inside her head, unnoticed __by him __and scorned at by that awful woman who was not a bit more human than the poor creature, Chip, w__hich she kept as a pet. What had Rose become reduced to__? A container, an empty shell for "the last Earthling" to do with as she pleased? Just a way for Cassandra to fulfill the thrill of overthrowing __someone's mind, replacing it with her own? The thought was terrifying, and so Rose kep__t screaming his name, over and over._

She was having way too many flashbacks as of late, but she wrote it off as being an aftereffect of constantly being reminded of their journeys. It felt sort of good, actually, so she did not mind it that much, had it not been for the ones that sent shivers down her back and messed up her mind. She remembered the sensations that had filled her at that moment when she thought that Cassandra would never let her go – fear, pain and endless, flaming hate, an emotion so strong that it would have taken her breath away had she been in control of her body. It had been so awful, but it had taught her something. Don't let down your guard, don't run off on your own, and most important of all, get _the hell_ out before talking butt-skins starts doing weird illegal science.

When they'd finished the story nothing but stunned silence filled the room, until Thomas gave them a sitting ovation, grinning like a split pumpkin-head. The others shortly followed, and John bowed like a practiced magician. Rose tore her attention away from her best friend for a moment to toss a glance out one of the tall windows. A calm autumn darkness had started settling outside, and Rose suddenly noticed a deep weariness she had not felt before, as she had been riding high on the thrill of telling their tale. But now she just felt tired and sort of hollow, like she had worked herself all the way into the bone. It had been a long day. The Doctor spotted her expression which was with no doubt portraying how she was feeling, and his features softened visibly. "I think it might be time to call it a night" he told the others, and with their nodded acceptance, he carefully took Rose by the arm and gently tugged her towards the exit. They only stopped once, by the door, when Sandy said: "And you just say the word when you need that time-watch, yeah?"  
Rose sent her a tired, but appreciative smile, "Yes".  
"And Doctor, is your arm better?" Elizabeth asked kindly and compassionately, as was her nature.  
He nodded, "Much, it only stings a little. Thank you".

A few minutes later they were comfortably seated in Rose's car, the Doctor by the wheel and Rose at the passenger's seat, leaning against the backrest. With great ease (which kind of amazed Rose when one took into consideration that he actually did not drive Earth cars very often) he maneuvered the vehicle onto the road, turning the rear back towards the city. The Torchwood institute was situated at the outskirts of London, but still in a manageable distance from centrum, so the drive would not take very long. They still had time to talk and plan, though.

"So…" John started, turning down the music from the car's radio a little, "When _would_ you actually like to go? What time and place would be a good parking spot for our Tardis?"  
"_Our _Tardis?" Rose asked, butterflies of excitement basking in her stomach.  
Without moving his eyes from the road in front of him, he reached out and stroked her cheek, briefly and lovingly, before he answered: "Well of course it's ours. You have as much claim on it as I do. And tell you what, when it is grown…"  
His eyes were glowing in the dusty light from the street lamps, zipping past them in intervals. "When it has reached its right size, I'll teach you how to fly it. Fully."  
"Really?" She gaped at him in horrified joy, both afraid of and happy about all the responsibility that would be put on her shoulders, "That would be… Wow."  
"You will be able to steer it without me, go your own without my help, as good as any Time Lord and -… What's with the face?"  
She glared at him sternly, making sure to get the message across to him, "I won't leave without you. You know that. If it's gonna be _our_ Tardis, I want it to be both of us she carries with her."  
"It will be." He assured her, "But wouldn't it be neat to be able to fly her by yourself?"  
A grin spread across her face, and she admitted "It kinda would, yeah"

They lapsed into a comfortable silence for the rest of the ride, and soon the Doctor made a sharp turn, navigating the car onto the long cemented path leading to the Tyler residence. The driveway was surrounded by large yet elegant trees, and the house, lit up by many outdoor lamps shone like a pale marble structure at the end. So very different from the Powell Estate where she had grown up, but now the cozy golden light streaming from the windows was familiar in its warmth, and she knew that when she opened the door to the hallway, it would finally, after years of yearning for another place, smell of _home_.

"Home sweet home" the man by her side remarked, almost as if he had heard her thoughts. "Meatloaf." He then announced matter-of-factly.  
"Meatloaf?" Rose raised a questioning eyebrow, but he only repeated the cryptic, "meatloaf". They drove into the garage and parked the car, and when they unfastened the seatbelt and left the car, Jackie was there to greet them, hand planted solidly on her hips and expression like a thunderstorm. _oh-oh. _  
"I have a bone to pick with you, _Doctor_!" Rose and Tony's mother exclaimed at the human Time Lord, as she went closer, high heels clicking noisily across the concrete floor.  
Rose had to fight back a smile as she heard him hiss beneath his breath, "It's always the mothers".  
"What did I tell you before you left for Torchwood?" Mrs. Tyler demanded, hitting him on the arm when he rolled his eyes. He flinched, "That we should be home for dinner. What is this, an interrogation? Cos I've had one of those, and I did not care one bit for it".  
Jackie gracefully ignored that last remark, "And what time is it now?"  
"Dunno, I didn't bring a watch."  
"What genius doesn't even know the time?"  
"Uhm… A clever one?" the Doctor said with a shrug, and Rose tugged on his sleeve in warning, but it was too late. Jackie's eyes had turned into tiny little slits, but instead of exploding she just breathed out and looked comically much like she was counting to ten inside her head. She'd had to learn to control her temper since the Doctor's arrival, since he constantly put it to the test. "Tosser" she just said, "Dinner's grown cold, we'll have to reheat it. Go freshen up, both of you – ", she looked pointedly at the Doctor as she said this, "And I'll make sure there's some food ready for you".  
"Mum" Rose insisted in a serious tone, reaching for the older woman's arm, "We need to talk. It's about growing a Tardis and – "  
"I figured" Jackie said, and at the confused looks the other two directed at her she explained, "You went to Torchwood, and you've been blabbing pretty much constantly for the last week about time travelling. So if you want to talk, we'll talk, but first you'll have to eat something. I swear, as absentminded as you both are I'm surprised you didn't starve to dead while traveling. I would not put it behind any of you to forget to eat in between all your running about."

Rose's lips crocked into a smile, "Yeah.". As if to emphasize her mother's point, John's stomach let lose a fearsome growl of hunger, and Jackie's scowl turned into an overbearing grin.  
"Come on" she took a firm grip in both of their arms to guide them out of the garage, "We can't have you starve, now can we?"  
"What are we having?" Rose asked.  
"Meatloaf. Now hurry up, you know how your father gets when he's hungry!"  
Her daughter glanced at the Doctor and mouthed: "How did you know?"

He just winked at her, a secretive smile on his face, and she chose not to ask. She was famished anyway.


	10. Doing the Domestics

**You ain't human 'til you've done the domestics**

"I can't believe we're doing this" John announced, nose wrinkling crossly as he pushed open the gate and pouted as the yellow brick house, surrounded by fenced off flowerbeds sporting a big assortment of pretty flora, came into view, "I don't want to".  
"We promised Mum and Pete we would take care of it." Rose said, rolling her eyes at his childish behavior as she followed him through and secured the metal gate behind her, "Besides, I thought you liked Tony?"  
"I do!" the Doctor insisted, "I adore him, you know that. I just don't see why it has to be us who picks him up from kindergarten. You have a ton of servants at your house that could do it for us."  
"And you also know that my mother makes a big deal out of making Tony's childhood as normal and regular as possible. That does not involve having nannies taking care of everything around him."  
She shrugged, "She would have collected him herself if she and Pete hadn't had to go to Bangkok for something concerning Vitex"

"When did they say they'd be back, exactly?" he was not looking at her, but at the garden where some children were toddling around on their chubby small legs, a couple of them digging in the sandpits with tiny plastic shovels and the rest playing with a red ball with a picture of a fairy printed onto it. His eyes were filled with a sort of lonesome longing, and she promptly averted her eyes in consideration, knowing that this look weren't meant for anyone to see. It hurt a bit, actually, to be aware that there was a part of his life she did not have any access to. He used to have a family, that much information she had managed to gather from conversations involving his personal life over the years. She knew that she ought to be happy with what she had, so she pushed the painful little reminder that he (or well, the other him) had had someone to return to and seek comfort in before she had come along.

Many "someones". More companions during the Doctor's 900-year lifespan than she could count on both hands' fingers. Sometimes Rose swore she'd felt like a time-travelling rebound, especially when they had met Sarah Jane. She had been so bitter and a little bit nasty towards the older woman, and it didn't help matters much that she started to like Sarah Jane after a few hours in her company. That made it much more difficult to hate her, and oh, how she'd wanted to. But Rose did not resent any of them any longer, and the feeling of being his rebound had totally faded after she had found out that he would not throw her out because he found someone he thought was better. After the adventure with the brainwashed middle-school kids it became clear to her. He did not leave them because he grew tired of them, but because he loved them too much. He had dropped Sarah Jane back on Earth because he wanted her to live a real life, but also because he, a Time Lord with an almost infinite lifespan, could not bear to see her grow old and disappear on him. And after Rose had met Donna and Martha as well, she knew that they had been perfect for the Doctor. They had given him hope and fought for him and kept him grounded and eased his path through hard times. They hadn't strayed from his side and they had taken good care of him when she herself wasn't there to do it. To be honest, that was good enough for Rose.

But God, did she want to strangle that man right now. He had all but bolted out of the room last night when Jackie and Pete told them of their impulse-trip to Thailand and left them with the answer of taking care of the domestics (it was clear from her mother's smirk that she had chosen that word deliberately to annoy the Doctor), which also included Tony since he was too young for such a journey. Rose had hoped he would be more mature by now what house chores was concerned, but she had not heard him make such a fuss since… She didn't remember, really.

"It's only for four days." She said, and he looked visibly more calmed.  
"Okay, I can do that"  
"Does the thought of being domestic for half a week really scare you that much?" Rose asked with a teasing glint in her eyes, and he stuck out his tongue at her.  
"Of course not. I'm just not used to… Don't you have anyone to do the chores?" (he spat out the last word like it left a nasty aftertaste in his mouth and he couldn't get rid of it fast enough).  
"Yes, but they've got the weekend off. Seriously, we should be able to handle things without them. Mum thought it would be a learning experience for us. Well, you mainly. Besides -"she gripped the handle of the front door, "You've been living in my parents' house for free for almost a month and a half. This is the least you can do". She opened the door and as soon as she did so, she was almost run down by a group of three-year olds who all seemed very fascinated with the newly arrived. One of them, a little boy, blue eyes so big it looked like they were about to pop out of his head, asked her "Who have you come to pick up?"  
Rose laughed. It always was like this whenever she came to fetch Tony, at the rare time when Jackie was too occupied to do it. Children liked basking in the attention of grown-ups, and she didn't want to disappoint them. She started to sit down to be on eye-level with the children, who were all chattering excitedly, but the Doctor got in first. He made his voice calm and patient as he spoke to the boy: "What's your name?"  
"William!" the kid exclaimed, "And tomorrow I'm going to Big Ben with Gramps and Gran!"  
"That sounds great!" John said enthusiastically, ruffling up William's strawberry blonde hair, "We've come for Tony Tyler. You think you can find him for us?". The question was directed to all of the children, and they ran off, fighting and yelling amongst themselves like Rose's little brother was a precious treasure they couldn't share. Rose turned towards him, both amused and annoyed. "You shouldn't have done that, now there's no way the teachers will get them to settle down." But there was a smile in her voice, and he granted her with that crocked grin that made her heart race a little bit. He leaned in closely, breath ghosting across the shell of her ear, and the sudden intimacy was so overwhelming that she totally forgot that they were still both kneeling on the floor. She felt a blush coming along at the huskiness of his voice as he whispered: "Rose?"  
"Yeah?"  
He was quiet for a second that felt like a year, and then: "Are you my mummy?"

Rose shot from the floor like a ball from a cannon and stared at the laughing Doctor reproachfully, face flushed, "So not cool! I thought you were going to – " she shut herself up just in time, preventing him from hearing the last words she almost had blurted out unthinkingly.  
The grin on his face melted into curiosity, "Thought I was going to what?", he asked her, brown eyes drilling into hers with an intensity that made her a little dizzy. She chewed at her tongue, her default expression when she was trying very hard to seem nonchalant, and opened her mouth to give him some kind of back-paddling response that would brush his question aside, when fortunately she was interrupted by –

"Miss Tyler, if it isn't too much to ask I would like to know what your…" the head teacher, Mrs. Monroe, regarded the Doctor a little icily from behind her red-rimmed glasses, "Friend, are doing on the floor? And also an explanation on why the kids are dragging around your brother like he is some kind of ragdoll."  
The Doctor, like Rose, stood and brushed off his clothes for nonexistent dirt, trying very hard to reclaim some of his dignity, but failing miserably. Rose smiled at the elderly lady sweetly and turned so she stood between her boyfriend and the teacher, "John, this – "she motioned towards the woman, "Is Annabelle Monroe. She's the leading teacher of the Sunflower Kindergarten." When nothing happened she glared pointedly at the Doctor, who then seemed to remember his manners.  
"Nice to meet you" he said, holding out his hand for Monroe to take. She did, probably not wanting to keep a gentleman, albeit one who had just been squatting on the floor like an Australian ranger, hanging. Rose continued the introduction, saying to the teacher, "Mrs. Monroe, this is John Smith. He's my…" she hesitated, and the Doctor picked up the lost thread of words in a fluent fashion: "I'm her boyfriend."

"Oh. Well then. Does that mean that you aren't really after Mrs. Tyler's money?", Monroe asked in a sharp no-nonsense voice, suddenly looking very protective of Rose, "'Cos if you are, then – "  
He interrupted her threat with a raised hand, "I'm not. I assume you've been reading the gossip section of _The Times_, am I correct?"  
The woman just huffed at him and ignored his question, instead turning towards Rose: "So you've come to pick up Tony? Isn't it usually your mother who does that?"  
"Yes, but she's in Bangkok. Something to do with Pete's work, I'm not quite sure what. So yes, we're on Tony-duty until they return. We'll make it work." Rose said with a reassuring smile when Mrs. Monroe looked a little suspicious. Thankfully, after giving John one last steely glance, the teacher announced that she would go get Tony.

"Phew, she's tough" the Doctor announced as soon as she was out of hearing range, "I can imagine that she would just keep your brother 'til next week if she weren't satisfied with your answer. Perhaps she's an alien" he turned towards her with mock worry in his eyes, "Perhaps she's Slitheen!".  
Rose shushed him and then punched him in the arm for good measure. "Don't say that. She's actually really sweet. She's just a little protective with Tony and me, that's all".  
He pouted. "A little? She seemed to me more like a mother bear, ready to devour me if I didn't – Oh, there's Tony!"

His face filled with genuine happiness as the small child ran into his arm with a loud "Uncle Doctah!". Said man scooped up Tony into his arms and started tickling him mercilessly, having Rose's brother shrieking with animated glee. Once he'd finished torturing the boy enough, John patted the giggling mess on his brown curls and said, "You ready to go home?"  
Tony nodded in affirmation, and then he realized that his big sister was present as well. He sent her a smile so big that the dimples in his cheeks became visible, "Hi Rose!"  
Rose, who had been standing quietly and smiling wistfully at the scene playing out in front of her, snapped back to reality. "Hey you" she chuckled at the halfway toothless grin he gave them. Tony had started losing a couple of his baby teeth and in the very front, one had yet to grow out and fill the empty gab between two other teeth.

Rose's voice rose a little so that it could carry a message audible enough to be heard by "their" teacher, who was reading some of the kids a fairytale in the other end of the room, "Mrs. Monroe, we'll take Tony with us now. See you on Monday!"  
Monroe looked up from the book, smiled at Rose and waved at Tony, before she started reading aloud again. The three of them left with no further ado, Tony on the Doctor John's arm, babbling away about what had happened today. "And then we made a fire in the garden and – "  
"You what?" Rose gasped at the exact same time as John proudly exclaimed "That's great!". For this he received an overjoyed giggle from Tony and a fierce glare from Rose, almost angry enough to burn a hole between his eyes. Just about to start correcting his mishap by telling the youngest Tyler that it was frowned upon to play with fire in public, John realized too late that Rose was having him on as she started sputtering and then buckled over with laughter.

"Rose! You had me terrified! If looks could kill…"  
"Oh my, you should have seen your face! Back at you for the whole Mummy-thing before!" she almost couldn't squeeze out the words in between giggles, and the laughter was so catching that Tony joined in, shortly followed by John himself after he was done scowling. When their fit had died down a little they walked the rest of the way to the car, and Rose buckled up her brother in his children's seat. The two adults got in as well, and she set the car in motion towards the city. The Doctor John started speaking rapidly with  
Tony, halfway in Toddler and the other half in Human, which was apparently becoming his first language.

"We drive a lot these days, don't we?" John suddenly shifted his attention to her instead, and she smiled at him.  
"You've got a problem with that?" she asked teasingly, sure that if she played along he would turn out to have a point.  
"Huge problem. I think we could make transportation easier. You know the gasses, the traffic, the meaningless feeling of being a sheep just running along with all the other sheep on the motorways…!" his sentence drifted off, but Rose caught his drift easily.  
She sighed, then said: "You want to go for a ride in my Zeppelin, Doctor?... Oh. That sounded dangerously much like an innuendo, didn't it?". She was thankful for the fact that her brother had yet to learn what that word meant. The Doctor just smiled wryly, "Just a little." His cheeks were a little red, though, and Rose couldn't help thinking about what she had just implied could actually _imply_. And she knew that he was thinking about it as well. Suddenly they were stranded in an awkward-zone loaded with semi-sexual tension, until her brother, bless him, grew bored with the silence and loudly said "Zepp-lin!"  
The Zone melted away at Tony's excited exclamation, and John and Rose smiled at each other carefully, before he turned around in his seat towards Tony and said, "Yes, Zepp-lin!"  
"Can we go?" the kid asked, eyes shining.  
"You'll have to ask your sister"  
_Wo-oh, here it comes. Three, two, one and… _  
"Rooooose?" two different pair of voices, one a child's and another one belonging to one who might as well have been, cried out in combined pleading which they knew she wouldn't be able to resist.

"Please Rose? Please Rose, please please please?" Tony begged, and she did not even need to look at the Doctor to know that he was doing the cutesy-face.  
She said, steadily keeping her attention on the road, "You know the puppy-eyes don't work on me, yes?". Yet she could already feel her resolve crumbling when John bit his lower lip skillfully. "Okay, okay! But not today, right? I have to make dinner, and you – "  
She pointed to John, "You are going to help me."  
"Help you?" he asked, eyebrow so far up his forehead one might almost be afraid that it would be consumed by his hairline, "Help you with what exact – oh. Oh no, Rose."  
"Oh yeah!" she answered with a lop-sided grin, adopting that breathless voice _he_ sometimes made when he was excited about something, "You are gonna help me cook dinner tonight!"  
He stared at her like it was a fate worse than death, like the mere thought of preparing a meal was like having to choose between cholera and the plague, a potential apocalypse representing one of the two and cooking the other. "First your parents forbid us to travel back in time until after Christmas, and now you want me to…" his eyes widened in absolute horror, "Rose Tyler, you want me to go domestic!"  
"Seriously, you ought to get over the whole Christmas-thing. We promised them we wouldn't leave until the celebrations are over since we don't know how long this trip will last. I'm sorry, but that's how it is."  
"I know, I know, and I get where they're coming from – it's just a little frustrating" he sent her a calming smile, "I'll stop fussing about it. Besides, it'll be fun. I haven't truly spent Christmas on Earth since…" his voice drifted off as he contemplated, and this gave her brother just enough time to proclaim, "Funny 'Drismas! Mum said Santa comes at Drismas night, and I have been nice all year. Right, Doctah John?"  
To John's credit he managed not to chuckle at the youngest Tyler's pronunciation of the famous Earth holiday and instead just nodded, not wanting to spoil Tony's excitement by pointing out that he had only known Tony for little more than a month and therefore had no idea whether Tony had been a prick or an angel since last Christmas, "Indeed you have. You know, on a planet called Bisnarn, Christmas was banned because the Bisnarians ate so much food during the holidays that they could not come into work for weeks after the 25th, and the doctors were so busy curing stomachaches that a lot of them got stressed out and started comfort eating, and then their bellies hurt as well!" He winked secretly at Rose, and Rose chuckled in amusement and shook her head at him, whereas her brother started asking a myriad of questions in his endless craving for knowing everything about their adventures, even though he did not quite understand all of the stories. The sentences rushed out of his mouth, and when he had to stop for air he asked a breathless last question, "But won't the children be sad with no Drismas?" His eyes were big and sad in his little face, and the Doctor's expression softened at his sort-of-nephew's (brother-in-law?) distress.

"Nono, don't be sad. It was okay in the end!" he turned all the way around in his seat so that he could hold Tony's hand, struggling so much that Rose had to duck her head to avoid his flailing arms. Rose's brother's tiny fingers disappeared in between his larger, more calloused ones.  
"He's right" Rose pitched in, looking away from the road in front of them for just a second to flash him a reassuring smile, before continuing, "The Tardis caught a signal from a group of Bisnarian children – "  
"But not your Tardis? Is just a baby, yea?" Tony asked, tilting his head like he had a habit of doing when he was wondering about something.  
"I'm talking about the old Tardis." She explained, and then grinned smugly "The one who had sent out the signal, Maqi, was eight years old and real smart. almost as smart as John was at that age!"  
"So you're not the cleverest person in the world?" Tony asked the Doctor. It seemed like he couldn't quite decide whether to be delighted or disappointed by this statement.  
The Doctor of course only huffed in an offended way and didn't answer, but Rose saw the spark in his eyes as he regarded her, so she deemed it safe to keep going.  
"So we arrived on Bisnarn just a couple days before the 24th, and he asked us to help them set it right. We convinced the planet's government to legalize Christmas –"  
"Le-dja-lise?"

"It means to make it okay again" she said educationally, and Tony nodded in understanding, "And now they only eat healthy meals on Christmas, like carrots and cabbages and Brussels sprouts". She ended the story, satisfied that she had told the tale well and maybe had passed on some wisdom, but when the Doctor started laughing heartily she realized something was wrong. "What's the matter? Tony?"  
"I think he's gone into shock. He's completely terrified"  
Then Tony chocked out, "Cabbage?", looking absolutely mortified, "But what about duck? And candy? And puddin'?"  
Rose sighed. Perhaps she should leave the preaching of the importance of vegetables to her mother. "Well… There wasn't any of that."  
A miffed Tony declared, little nose stuck into the sky, "Then I don't want to live there". And that was the end of that conversation.

When back home the Doctor and Rose started on the trial that was the preparation for making dinner, "trial" being the code word. They had just put Tony to bed in the nursery for a little nap, and hadn't even properly started cooking yet, and John was already fighting the inevitable with tooth and nail. The current issue presented itself in the piece of cloth Rose had just handed to him.  
"I am _not_ wearing an apron" John said sternly, pushing the offending baby-blue fabric back at her, "For you I will help cook without arguing, but I will not put on that… That thing."  
"Well, if you didn't insist on wearing suits this wouldn't be a problem, but stains are horrible to get out of wool and silk blends." Her eyes widened, "Oh Gods, I sound like a wife"  
He grinned at her and said teasingly while rolling up his fancy sleeves into a more practical position, "Yeah, but it's good to know that you know your suits".  
"Living with Pete for years makes you pick up random facts about classy clothing." She said, "Like what you should and shouldn't do when wearing them. So therefore…"  
She raised the bundled apron in an outstretched arm and said pointedly, "You are putting this on."  
John rolled his eyes and got into the apron with no further fuss, but when he saw how Rose stared at his chest, snickering like a madman, and looked himself from top to bottom, his entire face turned deadly pale.

"Rose…!"  
"It's a present from my Mum, by the way" she informed him, fighting a lost battle to keep her voice neutral and failing when he exclaimed in something akin to outrage: "I can _see_ that!"  
She chuckled at his grumbling, "I think that you look smashing, if that's any consolation."  
A sudden blush crept even further up his neck, perfectly matching the very red heart on his chest where the message _Kiss the Time Lord_ was printed in white letters. "To think that Jackie even after having become a millionaire is still so vulgar"  
"Watch out Spock, it's my mother you're sass-talking" she said warningly, but secretly she thanked Jackie for having brought the apron. This was _precious_.  
"I'm sorry, but you must admit that this is a little crass" he said, hands reaching for his back to pull apart the bow and take off the cloth, but Rose reached him before he made it and still his hands with her own. "No, keep it on."

"Why?" he asked, eyes twinkling. She felt warm inside by looking at him, reduced to a silly love-struck teenager by seeing her boyfriend in a cheesy apron, a bag of flour in his arms and a hint of a kiss in the corner of his soft lips. She shook herself out of her trance-like state before it became noticeable that she had been staring. "You look…" she said, feeling a little stupid. "I look what?" he said, stretching out the fabric covering his front so the message became more visible.  
"Cute. You look cute." She muttered, and was relieved that she at least wasn't stammering. That would have been the dead of her. They could normally talk so freely, but when it concerned expressing emotions she behaved like a proper fool. But his face only cracked into a wide grin at her words. He carefully sat down the flour on the tabletop and opened his arms in a beckoning motion.

"Well…" he said, waving her closer with his hands, "Then _ki__ss the Time Lord_, Rose"  
She flung herself into his embrace, tightening her arms around his shoulder and middle. Standing onto her tiptoes she coaxed the kiss that had been hiding and tempting her from him with her own lips against his. He cradled her gently, hugging her with all his might and kissing her just as energetically as she did him, and his soft laughter mingled with her own and tickled her tongue. Rose felt like she was melting, so she clung to his upper body, and when he made to lift her onto the table to be able to stand between her legs and deepen the kiss, she followed him willingly, pushing against the floor with her feet to help him. She reached out with one arm to catch hold of something to steady herself, but instead of finding something, she hit the back of flour. It tumbled to the floor in almost comical slow-motion, and both she and the Doctor tried to catch it, but to no avail. The paper bag burst open, and its content whirled up and covered both their part of the kitchen and the two of them like a tragically messy and white snow landscape. Some of the powder blew into Rose's nose, and she started coughing and hawking like mad, desperate to rid her poor nostrils of the stuff. When she opened her eyes again she joined the Doctor John in his baffled staring across the surreal flour mountains that had settled in the otherwise spotless kitchen.

"Oh no…" John breathed out quietly, like he subconsciously was afraid of speaking to loud in fear of breaking the illusion that their kissing hadn't just become the reason for the fact that a ginormous cleaning job was in order. Rose wasn't lost for words, however; "Fuck! bollocks, shit, bleeding bloody – "  
"Language, Miss Tyler"  
"But it's a mess! This is gonna take such a long time cleaning up and I don't – Why are you looking at me like that?" she hissed at him as she sprang from the table and planted her feet solidly back on the floor. He was grinning at her manically, "You're such a hypocrite! You gave me a hard time for not wanting to be domestic, and now this?"  
She raised her hand in good-natured surrender and grumbled, "I know and I'm sorry. I just hate cleaning; I did it way too much when I lived alone with Mum. She weren't really the housewife type"  
"I can imagine" then his face changed into an expression of almost fatherly pride, "My Tardis was self-cleaning"  
Rose rolled her eyes at him, but her mouth was still set in a huge smile. "Then I'll be as dirty and scruffy as possible in it to put that statement to the test. And now…" she clapped her hand in resolution, "Let's fix this, and then make dinner"  
"Yeah. Even though it was sort of your fault…"  
"Was not!"

The rest of the evening passed by in a largely uneventful, but very nice blur. They cleaned up the kitchen, cooked and ate lasagna, and while the Doctor put the plates into the washing machine and boxed the left-overs, Rose took the youngest Tyler into the bathroom to wash off the remnants of sauce and cheese which dinner had left on his round cheeks. They then proceeded to the largest of their living rooms where the three of them a row about which movie to watch, which finally ended when Tony, eyes glistening, used the ever-so-cliché threat, "I will tell Mum!" and deciding on The Lion King. Rose, having watched this favorite of Tony's with him more times that could be counted on both fingers and toes, knew all the lines and the plot by heart and therefore deemed it okay to divert her attention from the screen a little. So while Scar tricked his poor nephew into all sort of bad things, leaving Tony's large fearful eyes glued to the screen, Rose's own gaze took in the sight of the man sitting next to her. Like her he had pulled his legs onto the couch, and he was resting one arm casually across his leg and the other placed gently on Tony's shoulder. She noticed that whenever Tony, who was sitting on the thick blue rug in front of the couch, would flinch because something scary or unexpected happened in the Pride lands, John would give his shoulder a tiny reassuring squeeze. Nothing much, just a little reminder that they were there with him. And when he thought she weren't looking, Rose saw his gaze flicker towards her at the corner of his eye. Even when he was calm and relaxed, slouched across a sofa and watching a cartoon, his focus never totally left her. He always looked out for her, and Rose was battling a revealing smile from appearing on her face. It was all peace and quiet and greasy popcorn smell, and at some point, during Simba's first meeting with Timon and Pumba, the Doctor discretely lifted her feet into his lap and started massaging them, the sort-of intimate gesture sending small shivers up Rose's spine. It was wonderful and one of those seldom moments where Pete's world ceased being the Parallel World and just became the World instead.

"Did you get him to bed?"  
"Yeah", Rose said, smiling tiredly as she closed the door, "And he'll sleep all night through, as tired as he was."  
Still she had left the door to her brother's nursery at the other side of the hallway slightly ajar so that they wouldn't miss it if anything happened. John had been anxious about leaving him alone, but Rose had managed to convince him that Tony would be just fine. He had really taken a liking to the little guy, which of course made her very happy, and she always took care of her brother as well, but she had longed to be alone with her Doctor since the… Mishap in the kitchen, and she wasn't going to let his overprotectiveness get in the way of that. And even though she wanted John a little to herself, she couldn't help her next question.  
"Why are you in my room, by the way?" she said teasingly as she made her way to bathroom adjoined to her room, fishing out her all-time favorite pair of pajamas – the pink one – from one of her closet.  
"I… Well…" he said, taken a little a back and looking kind of lost as he sat on her bed, lanky frame casting shadows on the wall in the glow of the lamp on the bedside table, "I thought -. I can leave if you – " his ears and neck were tinted slightly in a sweet red, and Rose took pity on him. With a flutter of a thousand butterflies – at the very least - she said, "No, you just stay."  
"That okay?"

"Yeah. I want you to stay." She answered softly, and before she could see what expression had appeared on his face, she ducked into the bathroom, cheeks a little flushed. It shouldn't be anything to blush about. They had slept besides each other before, along their travels and that one time in this exact room, the first night of their time back in Pete's World more than a month ago. She could handle this. So she slid out of her jeans and t-shirt and donned the fluffy piece of girly fabric, pulled out the band holding her blonde tresses of hair together in the neck, took a deep and steadying breath, once again reaching the conclusion that she was acting beyond silly, shaking her head at this and then returning to the bedroom. He was smiling at her when she exited the bathroom, and it felt like her heart was doing flip-flops in her chest. Crap. It had been so much easier to just crawl into bed and fall asleep the last time, when they were both tired from the long journey and the Doctor had been exhausted from crying and blaming himself for _being_. And now he was laughing and back to normal and absolutely adorable, and she thought she might… _No. Hush, Brain!_ And she was self-conscious and full of nervous energy and she could _swear_ that she was sweating. Why was she _sweating_? It wasn't even like anything was supposed to happen, they had silently agreed on taking things slow, but it seemed her sub-consciousness hadn't gotten the memo. "You look a little tense. Anything the matter?" he said, somehow managing to look amused, cocky and worried at the same time. She forced a carefree grin onto her face, "No, of course not." She swallowed something in her throat, "Though…"  
Hurt flashed through his eyes, but his voice remained calm and understanding when he said, "I can leave if you want."

"Though I think you should take of the suit" she finished and relished in the fact that she got the smile back on his face. So what if she was nervous and blushing. That was part of it, this being in love business. The butterflies ought to be a good sign. He was making her feel fuzzy and he dazzled her and all she wanted was to lie down next to him and slip into sleep knowing that he would be there when she woke up. She was pulled out of her thoughts by his slight chuckle.  
"I'll do that."  
He disappeared into the bathroom to change out of his clothes, and when he returned, wearing only his trousers and his t-shirt from underneath his fancy jacket, he jumped into the bed, rustling around with the pillows and the duvet 'til both of them were buried beneath all the soft silken bed linen. He reached out and turned off the lamp on the nightstand, shrouding the room in complete and utter darkness. They lay in silence for a few minutes and just as Rose started becoming hyper aware of the feel of warmth that radiated from his skin and the even sound of his breath rushing out his lungs, the Doctor said, "So, Rose…?"  
"Yeah?"  
"_Kiss the Time Lord_?"

She could hear the gentle smile in his voice, and she laughed softly as she sought his hand and entwined their fingers. Then, without another word, she scooped closer to him and pressed her lips to his in a kiss, loving the feel of his slightly chapped skin beneath her mouth. He smelled like soap and man and adventure, and when his arms entwined her upper body and pulled her flush against his chest, it felt nothing but completely natural to rest her head against it. "I liked the apron" she announced sleepily and yawned quietly and smiled contently against the cotton of his shirt, "You have to wear it every time we cook."  
Thinking this through for a moment, she added solemnly, "But no more flour"  
His rich laughter made his chest vibrate against her cheek. "No more flour", he agreed. Then he carefully pushed a strand of hair away from her face and kissed her forehead affectionately.  
"Goodnight Rose"  
"Goodnight John"

The Doctor and his Rose, as it was supposed to be.


	11. We know what the aircrafts hide

**We know what the aircrafts hide**

Weighting the pros and the cons had seemed a good idea at the time. Pro: he could control the Tardis. Con: more often than not, it had seemed like the Tardis had controlled him. Pro: He could make it fly. Con: He couldn't make it fly _that _well. Pro: They always arrived where they were needed. Con: They never ended up where they actually wanted to go. And the last one, but certainly not the least:

Pro: He had passed his driver's test on Gallifrey.  
Con: In his second try. With the lowest possible score that was still passable.

The only question was then whether or not you could apply his limited level of skill to the art of riding a zeppelin. You probably couldn't. Hopefully. Rose bit her lip for what must have been the tenth time during the same number of minutes. She cast a glance at the Doctor, who was zipping back and forth between the different dashboards of the aircraft, eyes sparkling and fingers twitching subconsciously like he couldn't wait to press all the bottoms and see what they would set into motion when pushed. Atop his brown hair rested a black and white captain's hat crookedly, and he was wearing an aviator jacket only God knew where he had found. Pushing back her nervousness and forcing her tone to be light, she said: "Looking sharp, Cap."  
"Relax" he said matter-of-factly without taking his attention of the panels spread out in front of him, eyes scanning the different devices like he by sight alone could learn the purpose of all of them.  
"What do you mean?"  
"You are fidgeting." He finally turned towards her and granted her with a lopsided grin, "I'll have it all under control, Rose! I'll keep you safe."  
She raised an eyebrow teasingly, "You will?"  
The grin grew as he walked across the polished grey floor and pulled her close enough to plant a sweet little peck on her forehead, "Haven't I always?"

She threw back her neck and laughed earnestly, before answering, "Most of the time it was me who did the saving, though."  
John huffed like he had taken great offence, but then surrendered and nodded in agreement, "You're probably right. Rose Tyler, Earth Defender. By the way, you look real sweet in that". He pointed to the outfit she was wearing consisting of a British army-style green jacket and a pair of black trousers.  
Rose chuckled, "Thank you, but you look much more in-character than I do."  
"You can have the hat until we get permission to take off" he said, taking of the hat and placing it diplomatically on her head, "I'm happy you'll teach me"  
"No-no" she smirked as she straightened the hat on her blonde hair, "I'm just tagging along to give you pointers. After all – ", She took a hold of his shoulders and squeezed them, pointing out her tongue at him, "You'll have it all under control"  
With a pat to his shoulder and a wink she turned on the radio and said the words acquired for the flight staff to allow them to fly.  
"Rose Tyler here, ready for take-off"  
"We're getting you loud and clear, Rose" a voice she recognized as James' informed her, "Now get out of my sight. I don't even know why I need to be out here, you know it all by heart". He was sitting in the watchtower, and from the window of Bertie the zeppelin Rose could see him sitting in the office, headset in his dark hair and jaws slowly chewing a piece of gum.

"It's procedure", She hissed at him while rolling her eyes, "So sod off, Lazybones."  
"Yeah, as soon as you get off my lawn and stop interrupting my lunch break." He said, almost sounding sullen, but she could hear the smile in his voice, "No, seriously, off you pop. Have fun." The young attendant gave her a thumbs-up across the runway to where the aircraft was drifting above its dock. Rose nodded and turned towards the Doctor, raising her hand and saluted him with a grin, "Ready when you are, Cap'n!"  
She noticed that John had gotten slightly pale, but didn't mention it and managed to keep a smug smile off her face. To his credit his hands did not shake _that_ much when he reached for the shudder, and there was an air of capability to him as he hit the buttons at a tearing pace, making Bertie come to life with a well-oiled roaring sound. She could feel the zeppelin rumbling beneath her feet, a soothingly familiar movement spreading from the soles of her shoes to the rest of her body until she managed to tune it out. In one (relatively) smooth movement the aircraft rose from its dock and started drifting upwards, and she heard the Doctor make a slightly stuttering and very relieved sigh. He flicked a couple more switches, and as Bertie steadily drifted away from the Tyler Zeppelin Harbor, he turned the shudder a little, directing the ship to the starboard side. He regarded Rose with a dazzling smile, having the nerve to look nonchalant even though he was every bit as nervous as she was about the whole thing.

"Eyes on the wheel, Hotshot" she instructed, redirecting his focus to the front windows with a gentle push of her fingertip to his cheek, "And if you just stay clear of major monuments, like Big Ben, London Eye and Westminster Abbey, you'll be fine"  
"We'll cross those bridges when we come to them"  
"And London Bridge as well, thanks for reminding me"  
"Do shut up." He pulled playfully at her ponytail, before tugging at a lever and making Bertie lunge violently forward with no warning. They were both thrown to the floor in a messy heap, legs tangled and with shocked exclamation, and in the moment John's hand left the shudder, Rose's birthday-zeppelin made a long-suffering sigh and tilted to the right. The movement send them sliding across the floor, flailing and screaming and laughing breathlessly. "Doctor!" she shouted joyfully, feeling lightheaded, "You better get this thing bloody under control before we crash-land in Hyde Park or something!"  
"Now don't be silly, Yellow-and-Purple, Hyde Park isn't anywhere _near_ here!"  
"John!"  
"Okay, okay" he pulled himself into a standing position with support from the control panel, and easily righted the aircraft by the shudder. Bertie now moved forward in a swift pace, leaving the zeppelin docks behind and replacing them with the Tyler mansion's private park, which passed them by in a blur of green. She saw a quick glint of her mother and Tony rustling about in the flower beds, Jackie colored a healthy brown after having been tanned by harsh Asian sunlight, and Tony dark like a walnut in his face and on his arms from playing gardener. She was glad her parents were home from their trip – though she loved Tony and had been positively surprised about how the Doctor handled domestics, she had grown a little tired of babysitting.

He was a quick learner; she'd have to give him that, though she didn't quite approve of his fail-then-succeed method, and now she was quite glad that she had only allowed Tony to join them after John had taken the zeppelin for a test-spin. She'd trust the Doctor with her brother's life any day, but it didn't hurt to be a little careful. As she stood from the floor and blew hair out of her eyes, she couldn't help admiring the straightness of his back and the calm levelness of his posture. He looked like a captain. Except for the frantic running and the screaming at her to "Make haste with the bloody fire extinguisher, Rose, if you please!", he was looking exactly like he did when flying the Tardis – at ease, yet constantly aware, dark eyes open and curious.

Before she allowed herself to drift away in memories, she flattened her unruly hair with her fingers and walked over to stand next to him. "You're getting the hang if it." She praised him and relished in his proud – and very much relieved – smile. "Yeah, I think I'll manage not to hit anything." He turned the shudder a little to the left, and Bertie followed the order smoothly, proving his point. Rose chuckled, and when it was clear that he wasn't going to say more, she went to the small table and seats situated in the back of the room and picked up a small insulated bag. When the Doctor heard the telltale sound of a zipper being pulled at, he tossed her an interested look over his shoulder, "What's that you got there?"  
She smiled and raised a bottle full of light blue liquid into view, "This, Dear John, is a bottle of Vitex's finest"  
"It looks dubious" he pointed out with a suspiciously raised eyebrow.  
"Yet nourishing" she said, giving him a brilliant sales-smile and a thumbs-up, "Trust me on this"  
"Okay, but if I end up suffering from aftereffects of this stuff I _will_ bring Pete to court"  
She shook her head in exasperation as she poured some of the liquid into a pair of champagne glasses. "Somehow I don't think he will take to well to his daughter's boyfriend suing the arse off of him." She said before taking a swig of Vitex and enjoying the sensation of its coolness on her tongue. He took the glass she handed to him and shrugged, "Perhaps."  
He sauntered back to the panels where he pushed a few buttons and pulled a lever, and Bertie came to a soft halt. It was so gentle that she only knew it had stopped from the fact that the ground had ceased moving beneath the ship. "Let's just hang here for a while" he said, and she nodded.  
"Come 'ere" she said, beckoning him nearer with a tip of her Vitex, "I want to make a toast"  
"Sure. Make it good!" he sat down in the red bar-chair next to her (which had been Jackie's idea when designing the zeppelin's décor) and drank a mighty mouthful of Vitex. Then he looked expectantly at her.

Rose hesitated. She hadn't actually prepared anything to say, and had just wanted to express the contentment she was feeling. She raked her brain for a few seconds, trying to find the words that fit, and then said, "I like this"  
The Doctor threw his head back and laughed, brown eyes sparkling warmly. "That's an original toast start, if ever I heard one"  
She blew out her cheeks in a silly face, "I know, right? But this is great. I'm glad we did it". On the outside it appeared that she was talking about their aircraft-ride, but it seemed to be loaded with a hidden and deeper meaning she hadn't intended for there to be, and she knew John noticed as well. His eyes lit up, but he didn't say anything, so she continued, absentmindedly swirling the drink around in the tall elaborately carved glass. "This is fun, and… Well, I'm happy you convinced me to go" she said, and when the Doctor realized that those were her last words, he applauded her in a standing ovation, a huge grin covering his face.  
"That was… inspiring" he teased her, and she punched his arm gently, "I like it too, you know"  
"I know"  
"I have something I want to ask you, though" he said, a solemn frown creasing his forehead, "Something that I've been wondering about".  
She studied her expression, feeling a pang of worry in her chest, "Go ahead"

"Well" he said slowly and hesitantly, then emptied out his glass to buy himself a couple of seconds where he seemed to struggle with his words, "I came to think of it yesterday. About Jack and Sarah Jane – "  
"You want to know if I have seen their parallel selves." Rose cut him offer with a slightly bitter taste in her mouth, "In Pete's world".  
He gave a slight nod and looked at her carefully without saying anything at first. Then, after patiently having watched her down her Vitex, he said, "I understand if you haven't. It was probably the last thing you wanted to do after Canary Warf…" he drifted off, biting his lip anxiously.  
"I have." She said simply, pushing all reluctance of telling him aside. She realized that part of the truth would hurt him, but she thought he deserved to know. "A year or so after we came to this world I started growing very restless. Jake suggested that I found something to do with my time to distract me from my thoughts, and Elizabeth said that I should try looking for Jack and Sarah Jane."  
"How did they know about them?"  
A slightly embarrassed blush crept up Rose's cheeks, "I told them everything. It's a wonder they never grew sick and tired of hearing my nostalgic stories". She fingered the edge of the glass' top unconsciously while talking, "But anyway, I started doing some research on Sarah Jane. It wasn't that hard, my father has access to the best tracing agencies in the United Kingdom."  
"And how was she?" he said, looking very calm on the outside, but with eyes flashing dark with nervousness and worry.  
She sent him an encouraging smile, "She's fine. She lives with her family in Foxgrove"  
"But I thought Foxgrove was destroyed to make way for a motorway" he interrupted her with a skeptical voice, but she waved him off with a shake of her head.  
"Not in this world it wasn't. She's very happy there." Rose said, a fond smile slipping on to her face. She had been so relieved when she had discovered for herself how well her old friend was faring, even though this version of Sarah Jane technically did not know anything of either her or the Doctor. "But I didn't take contact with her, of course. This Sarah Jane Smith has never been tied to the Tardis."  
"What does she do?"  
"She's an investigative journalist." She rattled off the information she had gathered about Sarah's occupation.  
The Doctor John's face transformed into one single big smile, "I'm glad she's doing well. Thanks, Rose."

"Don't thank me just yet" she warned him, and this time she took his hand and squeezed in a silent gesture of support, "Jack is dead".  
Regret coloured John's features for a moment, but then he took a deep breath of air and said, "Technically he's not from our time period, and the Jack of Pete's world was not affected by the Time Vortex, so he could not have become immortal. But he hasn't actually lived yet, we can travel to the future and … Rose? Rose, what is it, tell me what's wrong."  
She barely managed to suppress the tears from flowing, and she was painfully aware that her eyes were misting up. Her lips were pressed together tightly since she did not trust her ability to talk levelly.  
"Rose, please, _please_ tell me"

"It… It was quite hard to get information about him, since it turned out that 'Jack Harkness' is just a name he adopted from an American soldier who died in 1941, and we had no idea as to what his real name might be. But we found out eventually. Turns out he was going to drop off that Chula ambulance and earn a lot of cash of it, just like _our_ Jack. But as opposed to how it went at the time we met him, he didn't get to London with his ship. It crashed in Wales after a technical malfunction before he could let loose the hospital unit, and without it he had no other choice but to enroll in the army, since he had no means of leaving the forties."  
"And then what?" John asked, voice dangerously low. He was clutching her hand so hard that it was almost painful, and his knuckles were turning a deadly white.  
She closed her eyes for a few seconds in which she imagined Jack's face in front of her – looking stunning in his long coat, wicked smile in place and eyes sparkling with life. That was how she'd always remember him. "He was shipped off to Saipan in the summer of '41 where he was shot in the stomach. Their medical equipment was not enough to save him, and he died after having suffered from his eternal bleeding and infection for three days."  
"How old was he?"  
Wonderful, charming, crazy and optimistic Jack. Young Jack. The good ones always die too young, they say. "He had just turned 32, according to the army's records."

"Oh" the Doctor let go of her hand and slumped back into his seat, eyes glazed with sadness, "That's…"  
She inhaled sharply before muttering, "I'm sorry I haven't told you. I just didn't want to hurt you. He was so…"  
John nodded darkly, and they said in deep silence for a few minutes that to Rose stretched out and felt like hours. Rose sat with her head in her hands, and the Doctor was craning his neck so far back that he was staring up into the roof. The only thing that could be heard was the soft sounds of the big machinery around them, and it reminded Rose of their last wild, hectic ride in the Tardis, which then made her remember something she had been thinking about on and off for some time.  
"John" she whispered, almost afraid of breaking the eerie quietness, "There's something I want you to tell me, and I need for you to be completely honest, even though it might be... Bad" She gave him a couple seconds to turn the proposition in his head before adding, "You think you can do that?"  
"Yes" he said, "I think I can"  
"What happened to Donna?"  
The effect of her question was alarming and immediate. John turned pale, and a sorrow that was almost indescribable replaced the cheerful man in front of her with a limp and heartbroken shape. But before she could say anything to console him, to wipe the sadness away from his face, he sat up straight and appeared to pull himself together. It was not in his nature to show weakness, but Rose wished that he, just this once, would let her see him when he wasn't strong. She hadn't seen him utterly and completely lost since the day of his and Pete's fight, and the few times he had come close since then, he had always managed to at least partly subdue it. She understood that he didn't want to appear helpless in front of him, so she pretended not to see the exchange of emotions on his face.

"She's alive" he said, sounding estranged. She should probably have taking this as a reassurance, but when travelling with the Doctor one would come to discover that "alive" could imply a lot and was not always the better option. "John" she said his name very gently, "What happened to her?"  
He drew in a rushing breath, "Donna's part of me, yeah?"  
"Yes, I get that" a big lump of anxiousness made her whole body feel heavy, "And that means that you're – "  
"That I'm part of Donna as well. Or I were, at least."  
"What does that mean?" she inquired a little sharply as she stood up and started pacing back and forth across the floor, nervous energy setting her nerves on edge, "You're fine like you are, why isn't she?"  
The Doctor left his chair as well and caught up with her as she reached the window. He took a hold of her elbow, carefully stilling her movement. His fingers caressed her arm through her shirt, making gentle circles and calming her a little with the soothing pressure. "The exchange between Donna and me – well, my hand – had an entirely different outcome than it did for me. I became a human, but with the same mind as I had before. Donna…"  
"Donna became a Time lord" Rose whispered in awe.  
The Doctor nodded, "Close enough. A human with the mind of a Time lord."  
"Is that even possible?" she asked him, and this time he shook his head, "She looked pretty normal to m- ".  
But then she remembered how quickly Donna had spoken when she taught them about the Tardis coral's possibilities and how wide and frantic her sweet eyes had been, and then she realized that Donna had been as far from normal as she could possibly get.  
"It shouldn't be, and she wasn't. Transferring Time lord DNA to such simple creatures as humans are is an incredibly destructive progress. Her mind couldn't take it. It would have overloaded and imploded on itself if something hadn't been done"  
_Oh, Donna_, Rose thought sorrowfully, and almost didn't dare ask the question. "What did you do?"  
"I deleted her memories. Or _he_ did. The other me. I didn't see him do it, but it was the only possible solution, really."  
"But… All of them?"  
"No. Just everything that concerned him, me and anything that happened during her time in the Tardis. Everything that wasn't human" his voice broke at the last word, and Rose felt like her insides had frozen solid. Her mind was completely blank for a couple of minutes. When she spoke again, it felt like she was hearing her own voice through a haze, a thick blanket of despairing fog, "He… You deleted you."  
"Yes."  
"Oh no." she said, light-headed, before reaching out for him, "God, I… I'm so sorry"

"It's okay"  
"No. no, it isn't" she insisted, scanning his gaze for something – _anything_ – that could reveal how he was feeling. Nothing showed on his face at first, but then what she had said seemed to register in his mind, and he pulled her close almost frantically, crushing her against his chest. She wrapped her arms around him and could feel his whole body shaking against hers, but his voice was even as he said; "It is, though. She's okay, Rose."  
"But – "  
He shushed her quietly and let one calloused finger brush across her cheek, "I know it's horrible, and I would have hated myself for my actions if I hadn't known that it was the only way. But it was. She might not remember, but she's _safe_, Rose. She's safe"  
And she knew that he was right. She didn't have to admit to that fact, and she didn't have to like it, but she knew. Donna was okay. Or as okay as one could be without knowing that they weren't supposed to _be_ okay. That was enough for John, and so Rose would make sure that it was enough for her as well. Then they just stood there leaning against one another for support, quietly watching the bustling city beneath them through the rounded window. It looked busy and serene and so wonderfully normal. Regular life was rushing along beneath them, nothing was stationary, always moving, never stopping, and never imagining slowing the pace for just a second. And here they were, above everything, and it seemed like time stood still in their zeppelin, big and silver and buzzing in the air. Suddenly Rose longed for the ground. She wanted down to where things were moving and vibrating with life and where the air wasn't full of _Donna-Jack-Sarah Jane-__painpainpain_. But he was holding her so tightly even though the tone of his voice insisted that he didn't need it, so she kept quiet about what she wanted. Bertie sounded a little like the Tardis. Perhaps he needed that.

"Right. Safe"


	12. Spoilers

**Spoilers.**

November came and went for Rose in a nice blur as she and the Doctor slipped into a stable sort of routine revolving around their quiet existence in the large Tyler house. It seemed that John finally had started settling, which his room, growing messier and more chaotic with the weeks that passed by in the tenth month of the year, was a tangible proof of. After much of what he considered pestering and nagging from his hostess' side he had agreed to let her and Rose take him shopping for furniture and paint in order to decorate his private space. Rose had started on the task in great spirit, happy about the chance to turn the too neat (a fact that had surprised her since she had never considered John to be that insistent on keeping things clean) and monk-like room into a place that actually looked like it was lived in, and Rose was quite adamant in wanting to succeed in capturing John's style and personality into the décor. In that department had Rose's mother and the Doctor been surprisingly agreeable towards each other's decisions, all the way until the discussion fell on the subject of colors, of all things. He had insisted on painting the walls blue like a certain beloved time machine, while Jackie with no uncertain terms had explained to him that she refused to have a man living beneath her roof who wanted to sleep among colors that were more suited for a toys store, even though that man might be her sort-of son-in-law. But the Doctor John, never one to back down from a discussion (even a losing one), persistently stuck to the Tardis-blue, and so Rose had had to step in before the little banter turned into a full-fledged argument. She suggested a compromise by painting the longest wall – the one by the windows overlooking the garden – a soft sky blue and the other three a nondescript yet nice white. Pete backed her up urgently, just as interested as Rose in seeing the argument settled before the two stubborn hotheads turned towards creative warfare.

Together they crisscrossed London in the search of the perfect furniture to fit John's surprisingly specific and slightly eclectic demands. One day they even went so far as to go to Oxford in the limo they borrowed from Pete for a very baroque-styled writing desk John had sniffed out somewhere on the World Wide Web. They had wanted to make a day out of it, but after more than an hour on the highway of sitting and listening to the Doctor making Lewis Carroll inspired jokes ("Why is a raven like a writing desk, Rose?") she started momentarily longing for someone else's company, so while John did his shopping, assisted by the car and Pete's chauffeur, Albert (the irony of the name was lost to no one), she called up Seamus and asked him out for lunch. They met at a tiny café, _Jackson's_ and Seamus was sitting at one of the small table when she arrived, plates with two big pieces of mouth-watering New York chocolate cheesecake waiting on the red and white tablecloth in front of him. She smiled at the sight; he still remembered what kind of food she liked, but Seamus had always been like that – sweet, attentive, a quiet giver of affection and gestures without ever expecting anything in return.

"Rose!" he exclaimed, a bright grin lightening up his face as he stood to receive her, "I'm so glad you called". She more than willingly slid into his open arms and he held her tight, his embrace warm and comfortable and familiar even after such a long time without seeing each other. A few strands of soft dark hair tickled her nose as she rested her head on her shoulder, and she blew them out absentmindedly, "Thank you for saving me from hours and hours of furniture-shopping boredom" she whispered into his brown coat. The leather of it both looked and smelled new, and she wondered when he had gotten it. He hadn't had it when he lived back in London, and it looked more expensive than the pay from his job as a public school teacher would allow. She took a small step back, not leaving the circle of his arms, and pulled gently at the soft fabric, "This is nice. Where did you get it?"  
The big smile on his face softened visibly, and Rose new that look – he had it _bad_. "Or perhaps I should ask "from whom did you get it"?"  
"Alice. Her name is Alice."  
Rose's mouth involuntarily curled into a grin, remembering the Doctor's silly jokes from before. She hoped his meeting with whoever it was who wanted to get rid of his or her desk was proving fruitful and that he hadn't somehow gotten lost in the city or had tripped over a crazy alien-adventure of some kind (she wouldn't put it behind him to doing so).  
"What's with the smile?" he said, suddenly looking defensive and it was very clear to see that he cared so much about this girl that he would defend her honour if his ex should start teasing her about her name.  
Rose shook her head and tugged at his wrist to get him to sit down with her, having eyed up the tasty treat on the table and decided that it with its' smooth brown frosting and white sugar flowers was too beautiful to live a second longer. She picked up a spoon and applied a generous amount of cheesecake to it, but before shoveling it into her mouth she answered, "Nothing's with the smile. I'm real glad you've found someone nice. It's just that John has been making Alice Liddell themed jokes since we arrived in Oxford and I just became so bleeding tired, so I'm real glad you picked up your phone and – " her sentence drifted off into nothing as she noticed the look of inquiry on his face.

She opened her mouth and closed it again, suddenly not knowing what to say. It occurred to her that she should perhaps have given him a recap some time during the last few months. But since she arrived home with John she hadn't had the time to think of much else but getting him acquainted with Pete's world.  
"Who's John?" he asked with an eyebrow raised so high that it could have reached the sky had it gone a little higher. Once again she tried to answer, but then realization lit up his gentle eyes, "Is it…?"  
There was no use in denying it, "Yeah. It is."  
"The mystery man!" he leaned forward across the table, chin rested in his palms and eyes widened in genuine curiosity, "Since when? I thought you said he was gone". He took her hand – the one that wasn't holding onto the desert smeared fork – and squeezed her fingers soothingly. Then he started asking one-word questions with a thousand miles an hour, "When? How? Where? C'mon Rosie, details"  
She smacked his arm in delighted frustration, glad to know that they could still bicker like this, "I'll tell you everything if you stop callin' me Rosie, okay?"  
He nodded promptly and did a little waving motion with his hands, beckoning her to speak. And so she did. She told him just about everything that had happened during the last bunch of weeks, only leaving out questionable aspects (Tardis, time – and space travel, two-hearted aliens, doppelgängers…) or at least twist the facts into something a little more plausible. He listened to her tale in reverent silence – Seamus had, just like the Doctor, always been an attentive listener, nodding along and making small agreeing noises in the back of his throat without even realizing it himself and not once getting distracted by the people or the sounds or the smells surrounding them. For a long while he didn't say a word either, not even when she stopped to consider the phrasing of her next sentence, and this she appreciated greatly. She had thought up a cover story for John when the press had started making camp in front of the Tyler mansion and demanding answers for their papers as to whom this John Smith might be. This explanation came in handy now, and she was thankful for the forethought.

The first part of the story – concerning how she and the Doctor found each other again and how they ended up in Norway – was of course largely fabricated, though she did involve the presence of Jackie and her friends, whom Seamus asked about with polite curiosity. Mostly he was interested in John, though, and his questions when she was done were largely about him and his role in the whole thing. He seemed thrilled that Rose had found what – whom – she had been looking for all these years, and it was very clear that he was happy for her and John in the way his grin grew wider with every detail she gave him about their life in London. It was so nice talking to him again that it didn't register with Rose that the arms of her wristwatch were moving steadily across the surface, indicating the time rushing by fast, having fun as she was. The evening sun was starting to dip low and glowingly red in the horizon and the cheesecakes had long since been replaced by two new pieces. They had moved on from John to Seamus' job to Tony (whom Seamus had adored for the time he had known him) to Alice, the newest addition to his life, and Rose had listened with rapt interest to his description of her for almost half an hour, when he cast a glance at her arm, checking the time on her clock upside-down.  
"It's getting pretty late."  
"Somewhere you have to be?" she asked with a teasing lilt to her voice. She didn't want to keep him there if he had other plans – it was already very gracious of him to make time for her in the middle of the day like this – but she liked seeing the slight pleased blush coloring his cheeks red at the mentioning of his special someone.

"I'm having dinner at Alice's" he hesitated, and then added courteously, "You wanna join us?"  
Rose considered his offer, but decided against it. The Doctor would surely be done with his purchase of the desk (and likely also a lot of other completely useless stuff), and it occurred to her that she'd had such a nice time talking to Seamus that she hadn't checked her phone for any messages the last hour or so. She fumbled to get the device out of the pocket of her jeans and studied the screen. Sure enough John had tried to contact her, but thankfully the attempted call was registered to having been made only ten minutes ago, so she wouldn't have kept him waiting for two long. She looked back at her friend to answer his inquiry, "No, I wouldn't want to impose on the two of you – "  
She could see him starting to lift his hands to oppose her statement, but Rose just shook her head and took one of his hands in hers, "But thank you. Please give Alice my best, though?"  
"Right. Of course I will"

After having paid for the absolutely marvelous pieces of cheesecake, shared a hug and made promises of keeping in contact, they departed, and Rose found a nearby bench where she sat down and watched the back of Seamus' head disappearing in the crowd in a moment of content solitude. She then pushed the buttons for John's number on her little pink phone (a present from Sandy and an endless source of amusement for just about everyone else at the Torchwood office). The shrill beeping noise sounded three times before the voice of her boyfriend filled her ear, loud and a little breathless, "Rose, you'll never guess what I found at these flea markets on – "  
He started rattling off random street names and pieces of furniture, some with more questionable origin, Rose chuckling as his tone pitched higher when he reached a new level of excitement.

"I'm glad. Is there enough room in the car for all of it?"  
"Yes-yes, no problemo mon frère!"  
She pictured him in her mind waving his hand nonchalantly in the air, shrugging off her worries with the movement, hair tousled from running (there was always running involved with him, even on a shopping trip to Oxford), and she smiled involuntarily at the thought.  
"I think frère means "brother"" she said, drawing on her limited knowledge of the French language.  
"Mon girl-frère, then"  
"Did you just quote Buffy on me? I think you quoted Buffy on me, Mr. I-speak-millions-of-languages"  
"You know you like it when I talk Xander Harris at you, Baby" he said, smile audible in his voice, and Rose rolled her eyes at his words even though he couldn't see her doing so.  
She answered exasperatedly; "I should never have watched that show with you on Movie Night with Jake and Liz."  
"No, you're probably right."  
"Oh hush, you. If you're done with your crazy marked riot and the furniture-jokes, can you come pick me up? I'm at – "she looked around, trying to find a sign of some sort to pinpoint her exact location, having a hard time doing so in the crowded and buzzing space of the shop-lined sidewalk, "Little Clarendon Street, it seems"  
"I'll be right there. I think. I don't actually know where we are, I think I sort of perhaps a little murdered the navigation system in the limo – "  
"What, how? How much a little?" she asked, already knowing she wouldn't get a straight answer to that question.  
"Um… So… Never mind! Be right there, Honey, don't worry, I'll see you soon! Albert, I'm sorry about the GPS, really, Albert – ", his voice drifted off into the distance as he started talking to – or at – Albert the Chauffeur.

Rose ended the call; smiling a huge silly smile into the back of her hand and feeling her cheeks grow warm. _Honey_. She wasn't sure the figurative butterfly wings in her stomach would ever not flutter around when he used such endearments on her. John's use of them had grown much more frequent lately as they both got used to the new, nice turn their relationship has taken, and to her surprise Rose often found herself using words such as Handsome, Pumpkin and Space Soldier (which was a name Pete affectionately – yes, they were getting along now – had given him and which then had stuck) about him without even noticing it until after she had said them. It felt natural, and though their friends thought it disgustingly sweet, Rose liked it. She liked that Rose Tyler and John Smith were overly cutesy and were always talking what the other called madness, barking with laughter in the midst of important Torchwood meeting and the Doctor asking, tears of joy tickling down his face, "Oh, Yellow-and-Pink! Do you remember that time when – "

Yes, Rose was quite content at the moment. She was a little cold in the chill air though, but it didn't affect her mood, only made her pull her scarf a little tighter around her neck and push her bare hands into her armpits to warm them up. When looking up she saw that the sky had taken to the colour of steely grey, and a fresh wind was touching her face and making her consider whether or not it would start to snow one of these days. She shivered in her thin red parka, suddenly wanting nothing more than to get back to London and curl up in the couch in the movie room and watch TV and drink hot chai latte. Snow would be nice for sure, but there were few things better than to watch it from inside a warm and comfy house. She had hardly thought that sentence to an end before the slick black car slid to a halt next to the sidewalk and John's head stuck out of the rolled-down window, "Miss Tyler! What a pleasure!"  
His face disappeared inside the car before the door burst open and he tumbled out of the passenger seat along with a whole lot of boxes in various shapes and wrappers for more candy than could possibly be good for anyone. He stood up from the stones and started brushing off the dust on his clothes nonchalantly, all the while pointedly ignoring the stares he was receiving from the people around them. He flung out his arms in a grand gesture, looking just like the owner of a circus proud to present the next big commotion, but seeming totally out of place with his suit jacket slightly askew and the products of his Oxford treasure hunt piling up around his ankles. "I've got a lot of stuff, Rose!" he exclaimed with great enthusiasm, and it was clear that he did not think the hours spent cruising markets wasted one bit.

She put a finger to her chin and tilted her head with a thoughtful expression before teasingly saying, "Nah, I've seen more stuff"  
"No you haven't" he said slowly like he was a kid trying to explain something to an adult that made tons of sense to him but didn't to them, "You're just jealous you don't have as much stuff as I do."  
"Yeah, that's gotta be it." Her hand connected lightly with his shoulder as she pushed him aside, ignoring the big lop-sided smirk plastered onto his face, "Now, will there even be room for me in there – oh, hi Albert."  
The driver turned in his seat so he could look at her from the front of the car; he was smiling, but it looked a little forced, "Miss Rose."  
His tone carried deep exhaustion and Rose looked from him to the doctor with apprehension, "What have you done to the poor man, Spock?"  
"Nothing, I haven't done anything!" John insisted, gesturing between them rapidly, "We're pals!"  
"He broke the GBS" Albert said bluntly as he stepped out of the car to assist the two of them in shoveling all the boxes back onto the back seats of the limo.  
"I thought it was going to poison him!"  
Albert snapped back, impeccable politeness cracking a little, "It was a GPS. A navigation system."  
"A dangerous, dangerous navigation system! And I did say that I was sorry"  
The elderly chauffeur rolled his eyes at him, seeming to totally have forgotten that what was technically his employee was standing right next to him, but he wisely didn't say anything, just turned his attention back to his task at hand. Rose heard him muttering something about blue boxes and thickheaded aliens and unreasonable phobias towards common machinery.

They got everything, including Rose and the Doctor, into the car, and soon they were on the highway back to London. On the backseat Rose and John struggled to make room for a game of Fish, and when they finally managed to get the cards spread onto the top of one of the bigger cardboard containers, the Doctor was dealing the cards and Albert's swearing about stupid maps and unintelligible road signs disappeared behind the thin shield separating the front of the limo from the back of it, Rose asked; "So, did you have fun?"  
"Yeah, a lot. We found the desk, and Christmas gifts – "  
"Christmas gifts?" Rose said curiously, leaning forward with conspiratorial smile, "What kind of Christmas gifts?"  
"Ah-ah!" he waved a finger in front of her face, "Spoilers!"  
"Okay-okay, I won't ask!" she laughed as she reached out to pick up the car he had dealt for her, and in doing so she cast a swift glance to his hand – he had reached down to one of his feet and was touching something small and wrapped in red paper, stroking it reverently with his fingertips for just a second, like was he reassuring himself that it was still there and hadn't gotten lost in the sea of random cardboard trivia floating about in the limo. Perhaps that was the main reason why he hadn't put up too much of an argument when she suggested she went to see Seamus. In fact he had encouraged her to arrange a meeting, insisting that it would be good for her to see her friend again. He was thoughtful like that, and Rose really had enjoyed catching up, so she decided to deem the Oxford trip an overall success.

-

She stepped out of the car back in good ol' London a few hours later and stretched her arms and legs with flourishes, working out the stiffness in her limps which she had built up during the period of sitting down for a relatively long time. The drive had been fun and mostly spent arguing on the finer aspects of the rules in Go Fish and doing a guessing game wherein Rose was supposed to figure out what was in the boxes John held up in front of her. He had used almost all the items in his animated hunt for entertainment but to Rose's not-so-much surprise staying firmly away from the red one she had noticed in a glimpse before. It was clearly something he wanted to keep a secret so against her better judgment, Rose hadn't asked. Kicking away what suspiciously looked like sword (if the bundled-up shape was anything to go by) she made her way to the front door of the long black car that had served them well on their wild romantic-comedy city cruise and tabbed lightly on the glass of the dark toned window.  
"Albert? Are you quite alright?"  
The driver rolled down the window obligingly at her voice and looked at her over the rim of his glasses. "I'm fine, miss Rose"  
She cast a quick glance over the hood of the car, and seeing that the Doctor was thoroughly occupied with checking out the content of one of his purchases, she asked silently, worry towards the kind chauffeur evident in her expression, "I hope he didn't exhaust you. He can be very… energetic"

The last comment on her boyfriend's personality made Albert smile in earnest and shake his head so his graying hair bobbed around the tips of his ears. This combined with his kind wrinkled face made him look a little like a nice old elf, "No, it was no bother, Miss. It was rather fun, actually." He said the word _fun_ with a little bemused raise of his eyebrows , like he found estranged amusement in the word on its own, and opened the door carefully, forcing Rose to take a step back to get out of its way and allow him out of the vehicle. He stood up in his full height, groaning a little as he straightened out his back with an audible 'pop'. Rose felt bad at once, having not considered what sort of aches he could have gotten from sitting down in the same position almost all day. Pete had told her that Albert sometimes suffered from pains in the back, and still she'd asked him to go with them on a long trip like this. Albert made a face of discomfort, though he didn't seem to realize so himself, but he struck Rose as one of those people who would not appreciate a lot of pampering and sympathetic remarks. So she just smiled and comradely patted his shoulder, pretending not to have noticed.

"Fun? Hauling boxes is fun now?"  
Albert shrugged with what could pass for a smirk, which took Rose of guard, cause she had never perceived her father's subordinate as someone who even mastered the fine art of smirking.  
"Indeed. Your friend – " he looked at the Doctor who had started carrying an alarmingly huge pile of boxes from the underground car park and into the elevator adjoining the large room with the mansion above. He had noticed Rose and Albert looking at him and waved vigorously for just a second before the stack towering over his head started tipping and he had to grab a hold with both hands again, "Is a good man. Just very accustomed to rushing about, I don't think I've run this much for years, I'll tell you"

These words wrestled a chuckle from Rose, "Yeah, he does that a lot. You know, we used to get into absurd amounts of trouble with these types, Daleks– " she drifted off a little, overcome by memories for a second, then snapped out of it when Albert huffed at her, though clearly not bothered by her anecdotes.  
"You've got some running in you too, though, I suspect." He said and studied her with clever blue eyes, and Rose only nodded, not knowing how to answer to that since she couldn't come up with an answer that was as affirmative as she wanted it to be to underline how very right he was in that assumption. She settled on a non-committing "right", and he smiled at her.  
"Then I'll start washing the car, if you don't mind, Miss Rose"  
"Again, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have let him drink soda in the back like that – "  
The old man squeezed her arm reassuringly, "It's quite all right. She needs a good clean-up anyway".

"_Yeah,__ so… we're gonna have to clean her up" the Doctor said with an apologizing shrug, slowly turning around his own axis to get an impression of the mess in the Tardis' control room. Rose scrambled up beside him, covered head to toe in greenish-brown mud, "You__. can't. be. serious", she said punctuating every word to underline how totally opposed she was to this idea. Still short of breath, she sat down on the short orange couch by the railing, nursing the sting in her side and rubbing grime out of her eyes. The__ quickly drying fluid was sticking her lashes together, making her general field of vision blurry and her face feel disgusting. __  
__"We have to! She's a lady, you know, she doesn't want her insides to be dirty!"__  
__"But you said she was bloody self-cleaning!" Ro__se looked around, eyes widening in despair at the horrifying __job awaiting them. The furniture, the console with all its blibs and blops, the walls and even the weirdly shaped pillars were covered in the same stuff the Doctor and she were currently scraping__ off of their clothes. "She is" the Doctor said, "Usually. But that part of her system is down for maintenance."__  
__"And knowing this you decided the best place for us to go was to a planet where you have had continuous fall-outs with its mud-people inhabitan__ts?!" __  
__"It seemed like a good idea at the time"__  
__"It always does" she said, spitting out a lump of something she didn't even want to think about what might consist of. It smelled like a combination of sever and oranges. Admittedly she found the last one a b__it strange, but she had started taking things like these in strides and had gotten (relatively) used to weird phenomenon. Still she couldn't ignore the simply horrendous stink that wafted from her clothes and the thick liquid seeping through the fabric of __her blouse and trousers, soaking her to the bone in yucky substance. "Can't I at least take a shower first?" she asked, carting her fingers through her hair in a fruitless attempt to comb out the brown stuff from it. Rose had never been vain, but she liked__ being clean as much as the next person, "Please".__  
__  
__"I'm sorry" the Doctor said, big white smile in his mud-brown face making it impossible for Rose to believe that he was sorry at all, "If we don't do something about this room first, she'll dump us in the__ middle of the American Civil War, or the like of it. She has a rather nasty habit of holding grudges". He raised his voice at the last words, evidently talking to the Tardis in scorn like she was some insolent child. The sentient machine made an angry hum__, like a bear growling in the back of its throat, making the whole ship vibrate beneath their feet in what felt unsettlingly much like their own private earthquake. __  
__Rose sighed. Why, _why_, did people made of pure dirt have to explode as a defense mechanism__? And if they did, why couldn't they go outside and do it instead of redecorating the Tardis' insides, the Doctor and Rose with their skin? Blood? Innards? It all seemed to be made of mud, anyway, aliens whose bodies were oozing piles of wet earth. It was __the Doctor's fault, really, that much she and the blue spaceship could agree on. This mess had nothing to do with the Tardis, it wasn't like it was she who had opened the doors and invited everyone in for a super crazy dirt-party and hung up at sign that s__aid,_ Please don't take off your boots before coming in!_. What the poor ship mustn't have had to get used to when she started traveling with her Time Lord. And with that thought in mind Rose went over and opened the door to the closet where they kept their __seldom used manual cleaning equipment, whipping out a bucket and a mop. She turned towards the Doctor and threw the items at him, which he of course caught midair in a manner so suave it shouldn't actually be legal, "Well, let's get started then, shall we?__"_

They had spent four hours cleaning the shit (in every sense of the word) out of the old lady spaceship, and afterwards it was like all the dirt had transferred from the walls, floors and pillars to their skin, clothes and hair. It had been worth it, though, when they felt the Tardis' contented hum beneath the soles of their feet and when Rose back in her own area had found that "Sexy" had made a new department to her bathroom containing a Roman styled spa made in warm cream-colored stones. A pool-like tub was sunk into the ground and a dozen tabs, all running different-colored water, soap bubbles and foam, were situated at the edge, each one painted gold and shaped elaborately like a tiny Chinese dragon with open mouths and little sharp teeth. It was so wonderful and luxurious that Rose was left absolutely stunned, almost afraid to move in fear of leaving disgusting marks on the clean tiles or polished mirrors, before she made a very undignified squeal, undressed (leaving her clothes in a pile in the corner with the mind to burn it later) and all but jumped into the steamy warm water. She would do just about anything for the blue ship, but these shows of gratefulness certainly didn't hurt. Oh God, how she missed that machine. When Christmas was over they would finally travel back in time and plant the coral, she continuously reminded herself of, but even now, in the middle of November, it still felt like an overwhelmingly long wait.

"Thank you for taking us, Albert" she said sweetly, and he nodded gruffly before he with measured steps left her to go get soap, water and what else he might need to clean up after their escapades. Rose waited for the Doctor to come back to the car before she like him lugged up three or four boxes in her arms to help him carry the last of the cars load into the house.  
"So" John said matter-of-factly, a grunt escaping from his throat as he almost dropped one of the cases and had to perform a weird balancing number to catch it while keeping the rest steady, which couldn't be doing much good for his back. He shrugged off the clear unease before Rose could ask him to be careful or carry fewer things at once. "What did you and Albert talk about?"  
"Oh, this and that" she forced her tone to be light, even though anxiousness was welling up inside of her at the pained look on his face she had seen moments before. She had never given the fact that he was now a real human being who could experience normal things such as illnesses or reoccurring pains much thought, and the knowledge that he wasn't invincible was not one she liked having, even if thinking otherwise was quite childish, "He told me he thinks you're nice"

"He does?" the Doctor beamed at her, brown eyes shining, "Great!"  
"Yeah" she nodded and couldn't help feeling almost lightheaded at his enthusiasm, "I'm glad you enjoyed the trip"  
"T'was fun." He told her, pushing the lift's up-button with a corner of a box, making it flash green and the steel grey doors slide to the sides, "And I actually think I got everything I needed". He poked at the upper cardboard container with his nose, flattening the appendage comically onto the surface, "This here is a shelf for above my new desk"  
"Isn't that heavy?"  
"Nah. Gallifreyan Superpowers."  
"I don't believe that." She said, and she would have crossed her arms skeptically had they not been full.  
He blinked secretively at her, "Believe what you like. But don't forget I'm half Time Lord still, okay?"  
Rose, suddenly feeling sad for some reason unknown to even herself, said, "I won't"  
Hearing the shortest of hesitation to her answer, the Doctor cast a sidelong glance at her, but apparently he decided not to call her out on it. Instead he asked, trying to sound relaxed, but voice still irrevocably growing a little softer around the edges, "Rose, I was thinking…"  
"Yea?"

"I want to move out." He said, and the world stopped.

So, that's it for this time. Hope you'll like it and drop off a review. I appreciate both praise and constructive criticism. And also, cliffhanger, scary, scary cliffhanger.


	13. Footsteps in the snow

**Footsteps in the Snow**

The morning snow finally started falling over the city of London, Rose was sleeping in. The day before had been long and exhausting, and since no one had decided to rouse her she found herself waking up at almost ten a.m., feeling refreshed and well-rested. She lay curled up in a ball on the bed for a while, unmoving and with closed eyes, not quite ready to leave the warm retreat of her bed and the clean crisp softness of her white pillowcases. She was mostly buried beneath the duvet, but her head was free and a ghost of wind brushed chillingly against her sleep-heated cheeks. Someone must have opened the window, she deduced, most likely a well-meaning Mallory (one of the maids) who had wanted to air out the room before the owner of it woke up. Now it was getting a little cold, though, so Rose suppressed the almost overwhelming urge to just stay in bed, kicked off the blankets and swung her legs over the side of the bed to stick her feet into a pair of purple slippers. She straightened her back and stretched her arms over her head, gripping her left arm's elbow with the hand of her right and pulling at it carefully behind her head to get the optimal stretching effect. The extended session of archery training she did last night in the indoor range in the well-lit attic had really left its' mark in the form of sore arm muscles and a dull ache in the upper part of her back and between the shoulder blades. But even though she winced a little whenever she would make a wrong move, Rose still took a little pride in how well she had performed. She had used her recurve bow, all streamlined and surface scattered with shiny metal gadgets, and had experimented with adding more weight onto the arms of the weapon, applying pounds until her forehead was soaked with sweat and her arms were trembling from the strain of holding the string taught. It was nice to know that she had gotten something out of the shooting, if the physical pains were anything to go by.

Rising from the bed entirely, Rose scanned the room quickly. Yes, someone had definitely been in here this morning. Apart from the open window, where a faint wind was making the flimsy floor-length curtains flutter, causing her reflection to flicker in and out of the big window's surface, a vase filled to the brim with neatly cut flowers was situated on her desk as well as a basket stuffed with still-hot loaves of carrot bread, nestled snuggly and sweet-smelling in a red cloth. It looked delicious and the way the buns were situated made it look a little bit Red Riding Hood. A grateful smile tugged at the corners of Rose's lips, the fragrance of the food reminding her through her nostrils how hungry she was. She went to the closet and pulled out a rope, putting it on and wrapping the belt around her middle tightly. Then she dumped down onto the flat pillow of the window seat and pulled the breakfast onto her lap with one hand, absentmindedly closing the window with the other. She bit into one of the buns, savouring the piece of it in her mouth, tasting carrot and the slightest hint of ginger on her taste buds. Exactly how Mallory, bless her, knew she liked them. God, did Rose love her Saturdays off (when she had them – Aliens had no quarrels with visiting Earth on weekends, unfortunately), especially after a Friday made busy chasing "vampires" or Satrunyians, as the scientific and politically acceptable (according to the Shadow Proclamation) term for them was, and somehow managing to peacefully ship them off back to their own realms. It hadn't been without a fair amount of misunderstanding, running and disturbing of the general slowness of a regular Cardiff evening. But that was how it was. After Rose came to Pete's World and joined Torchwood, they officially (and only partly joking while doing so) added "outrageous amount of running – good physique required" to the job description. Sandy had found it hilarious at that time, but even she had been a little less cheeky and a little more subdued after the hunt yesterday.

And so Saturday was Rose's day off from Torchwood duties, and unless emergencies arose, she was not to do anything but enjoy a nice - even if short - period of peace and qui –  
"Snow!" she exclaimed as she looked at the outside, not able to control her child-like excitement and glad that no one was around to see it as she let her hand rest against the cold glass, spreading all five fingers as if opening her hand to the whiteness whirling around outside like a tiny little palm-embrace. It seemed to have been going on for a while as the snow already lay in heaps around the garden, slowly but steadily covering up all patches of autumn brown dirt in a blanket of seldom tranquillity. She had learned to appreciate snowfall a lot more since she came to this world, mostly because it – as opposed to in her original galaxy – around here wasn't a sign that some alien ship had been blasted to atoms. Watching the snow descend gently from the pale nondescript sky on a clear and frosty morning like this made Rose feel like she was held by a kind of serenity that couldn't usually be applied to her hectic lifestyle. It was good to just _sit_, nothing to do and nowhere to be, and seeing winter do its' slow and almost gentle entry. In ten minutes she expected that Tony would barge into her room, as per usual without knocking, and demand that she joined him for a fight in the garden, cheeks red and chubby little arms and legs bundled up in scarfs and mittens and his favoured green, white and purple space ranger snow suit. The boy had watched Toy Story and thrown all his affection onto Buzz Lightyear, and when hearing so Pete had ordered a custom-made snowsuit-replica of the ranger's uniform from the best child's wear tailor in the whole of Britain. That boy would have been spoiled rotten by his father if he hadn't had such a practical and down to Earth woman as Jackie as his mother.

Seeing a pair of people coming into view, her eyes, which had been half-lidded in a content almost-slumber, snapped open. There was Tony Lightyear indeed, jumping around animatedly and kicking at the expanding mountains of snow with his boots, and with him a tall lean shape, hunched slightly against the fresh wind and dressed in big overall trousers, a hideous red sweater (which Rose knew was courtesy of her mother's skills with knitting needles and yarn), a comically huge multi-coloured scarf and a cap tugged over his head, effectively removing his spiky brown tresses from view. She couldn't make out his features from up here, but she was quite sure that he was scowling, likely a result of Jackie forcing him into an attire like that. If he had it his way, the Doctor would never wear anything but his fancy suits, even in a minus 10 degree temperature, so Rose was her mother thankful for putting her foot down. When having gone to a bar with the girls from the office, Sandy had asked her John he always wore suits, and Rose had grinned and jokingly said that his closet was like that of Donald Duck. That statement wasn't really true, cause yes, he had a lot of finery like that ("I'm a man of taste"), but his wardrobe was a myriad of different colours, nuances and details, even if the basic style was mostly the same.

The bar-thing had been two weeks prior to this moment, and that night had been on the same day as he had told her that he wanted to move out. The day where her blood figuratively had frozen to ice in her veins and everything bad that had ever happened to her had replayed itself in her mind. Quickly being reduced into a paranoid mess right where she stood, she had stuttered pathetically;

"_What? I… What?"  
"Rose…"  
"What."  
"Rose, please, you're sounding like me now, and that's not a comfort – "  
"What?!"  
"That's it" he said conclusively and took hold of her arms just above the elbows, keeping her in a steady yet firm grip, "I want you to listen to me now." He waited for her to give him a sort of consent and when she nodded, feeling numb all over and not thrusting her voice in the stifling air of the elevator, he let go of her with one hand to gently stroke her cheekbone. "That came out wrong, I'm sorry."  
Rose's brain worked along with a thousand miles an hour as she attempted to consider this rationally and not to start stomping her foot like an angry kid.  
"Make it come out right, then" she said, knowing her voice sounded a little (very) shaky, "I mean, it's alright if you want to… I wouldn't be happy of course, but I'd understand, it can't be that much fun to be cooped up in here with all of my family, I just thought that you liked it, though, and – "  
John stopped her rambling in the most efficient way possible – he stepped closer to her, reducing the space between them, and fixed his lips with hers swiftly. Rose's eyes widened and she almost melted into the kiss, 'cause no matter how many times he did it, that single act would make her toes curl in her shoes and the whole puzzle of everything fit into place. When he leaned back, separating them with clear reluctance and with eyes reverently closed, she said breathlessly, "You like kissing me"  
"Stating the obvious much?"  
"Yes. Why would you move out if you like to do it?"  
"Listen! Rose, I want to move out."  
"Yes, I gathered, and as I said, that's alright and – "  
"And I want you to go with me. If you want to"_

_It was nice to breathe again._

Rose smiled to herself at the thought of the outcome of that conversation. They had worked it out, and then the whole thing had been followed by more of the kissing that the Doctor admitted to so cherish. She had never doubted the Doctor's affection for her, but she would have accepted and even somehow understood if he wanted to get a place of his own where the only person he should take into consideration was him. When they came back from Norway and told Pete that she and the Doctor would be out of his hair, she hadn't considered for once that they wouldn't leave the place together, but John was a person with his own ability to decide what was right for him, and she would have had to be okay with that. But it was no issue. Not now. The smile grew into a smirk. It was all good, and now John, momentarily distracted from the snowman building he was doing with Tony, had noticed her sitting in her first-floor window and was waving at her zealously, mouthing something which Rose, when she squinted, interpreted as "Join us!". She lifted her hand as a confirmation that she understood, before setting down the basket and standing up to open her closet.

Ten minutes later, after having showered and dressed warmly, she was making her way through the garden, snow crunching with a satisfying sound beneath her boots. As she drew within a twenty meter radius of them she stopped, leaning against the brick wall of the house and admiring the progress of their snow craftsmanship. However, it wasn't long before Tony noticed her standing there, and he flashed an enormous smile and tumbled towards her through the snow which was quieting the sound of his movement with its thick masses, "Rose! Look, isn't it nice?!" the rim of his little hat slid down his forehead, but he ignored it, too eager to show off his and the Doctor's work to take notice of it. Rose scooped him into her arms, picking him up with an exaggerated huff, "You're getting heavy, Buzz!"  
The boy stuck out his tongue at her as she absentmindedly pushed his hat back up above his brow, "But yes, it's nice. Which part did you do?" she asked, taking a look at the snow-figure. He was made up of three large balls and the upper part of his body was tilting dangerously to the left, which made her fingers itch to try and straighten it up.

"The head, and John did the other stuff!" her brother exclaimed proudly, at the same time as the man in question lifted his head, face lighting up when he saw who had joined them, "Rose! SO good to see you! Look, it's snowing!"  
"Yeah!" she said, his enthusiasm very catching, "I hurried down here, but it seems you're almost done"  
"We are only done when there's no more snow" he said with feigned solemnity, before slowly leaning down and forming a white ball in the palm of his hand. Tony, cleverly foreseeing the event that was about to unfold, started squirming wildly in her arms like a worm on a sugar rush, giggling and squealing like crazy until she dropped him unceremoniously on the ground and threw herself to the side just as the Doctor let the snowball take to flight. It collided with the wall of the house and burst to pieces without hitting either Rose or Tony. Rose, running hunchbacked over the frozen earth in best Torchwood style, kept up the speed even while picking up snow. She took aim and threw in John's general direction, watching the snow sailing through the air and almost hitting the Doctor square in the face. He dove down behind his and Tony's snowman, making the child yell out in utter delight, and thus was the most epic snowball fight Pete's World had ever seen set into motion. It involved a lot of screaming and accusations of cheating and freezing substances melting down their necks (which produced more screaming in itself), and by the end of it they were all cold to the bone and shivering, but thoroughly satisfied. Obviously they didn't run out of artillery, but Jackie soon enough called for Tony to come in and change into something a little less wet, and the boy ran off, leaving John, Rose and Queen Snowman behind.

Rose craned back her neck to look at the sky from where snow was still drifting down gently. The icy pinpoints felt soothing on her skin.  
"It's nice, isn't it?"  
She smiled at the Doctor who by now was standing next to her, hands deep in his pockets and posture relaxed, shoulders slumped, showing how at ease he was. He had dropped his cap during the intensity of the battle, and a light white snow had started gathering in his hair. Stardust. Astronomy lectures in high school had long since altered any philosophic ideas of space phenomenon she might have sustained, but Rose was a romantic by heart (even if a slightly cynical one) and so she allowed herself to compare the glistening pale powder in his hair to stardust. "Very. You know, I didn't like it very much, when I first came here." She admitted, "I had come to… you know, associate snowfall with something… Something… Not bad, but unreal, you know. After what happened back when you regenerated, with the Sycorax, where it was just ashes, and no one but us knew what had happened." She drew in a shuttering breath, "And the children came out of the estate and started playing in it, and I remember wanting to yell at them to stop, and to pull them away from it, because they were playing in…" she stopped abruptly, not wanting to finish the sentence, the last word hanging on the tip of her tongue without being let into the open, _death_.

A gloved hand slipped into hers, and she looked down at it, for one second almost feeling like it was intrusive, foreign, but pushing this notion away forcefully. This was the Doctor, the person she could count on to understand everything, even if it sounded strange to her own ears.  
"Yes. I'm sorry" he said sympathetically, "but this place, this world, here", he spread his arms to emphasize his point, "Sometimes snow is – "  
"Just what it is." She said ruefully, "Snow."  
They stood in comfortable silence for a while, watching the snow's slow descend. The air around them was charged with emotions, like before a storm where you could taste the thunder in the air like something fuzzy and thick on your tongue. Rose, wanting to disperse the tension, looked at the Queen Snowman and mused, "We should build a snow-Tardis. There's probably enough for a little one, don't you think? We could pour cold water on it to make it freeze, that way it'll be more solid"  
When no answer came, she glanced at him through the corner of her eyes and felt awe at the huge smile curving his mouth upwards at the sides. He then started laughing, a huge, merry sound, thoroughly amused by her suggestion, and as he grabbed her cheeks to turn her head so that their eyes locked, he said, a kiss smugly hidden in the corner of his lips; "I love you, Rose".

"_I suppose, if it's my last chance to say it… Rose Tyler…"_

The words, said so naturally that it was like he had said them a hundred times before and not just one, seared themselves onto her soul along with the soft look in his eyes, the bright smile, and the bloody amazing hair.

"_Rose Tyler, I love you" a whispered reassurance, a promise, a wish, a __dream. Words she had longed to __hear without even knowing that she had needed them. Words that had gone without saying, but which were more than perfect to hear nonetheless. That themselves promised just as many adventures and thrilling times as any Tardis ever could. _

His ecstatic expression shifted into something softer, something insecure, the small wrinkles of laughter that had appeared at the corner of his mouth evening out again as he waited for her answer. The warm hands on her face – when had he taken of his gloves? – lessened their grip slightly, preparing to let her go, but she wouldn't have it, so she put her own over his with a steadiness she was impressed with herself. "I know." She murmured, tiptoeing to lure a kiss from his lips with a gentle peck, "I love you too". The shattering clarity of what she had just said hit her straight in the face, bright and real, but at the same time she knew that she wouldn't take it back if she'd had the chance. They stood there in the middle of the gentle snowfall, wrapped in each other's arms and sheltered against the cold for a few long moments before Rose, who had started to shiver slightly, cheeks growing pale, pulled free, "I'm starting to freeze. Maybe we should follow Tony's example."  
"Yeah, I'd like that. Perhaps we could just stay inside for the rest of the da – "

"_But I would walk 500 miles, and I would walk 500 more!__  
__Just to be the man who walked 1000 miles to show up at your door!"_

The Doctor raised an eyebrow in amused inquiry, "You've got the Proclaimers as your ringtone?"  
"Shut up, I like them." Rose said as she with great difficulty zipped down her coat to fish out her phone from an inside pocket, holding the tiny device up to her ear.  
"You know, if you wanna hear a great Scottish accent, I'm actually quite – "  
"Hush" she told him, effectively shutting him up before directing her attention to the caller, "Hello? Bo?"  
Before anyone could answer her a great big crash sounded in the other end of the line, tearing into the sensitive auditory passages of her ears and forcing her to put a hand momentarily between the display and her face. When the loud noises seemed to be done she tentatively took it back to her ear, giving John a shrug as he looked at her with a questioning as well as a little troubled expression on his face. From what she had just heard, it wasn't very hard to deduce that Bo was either in knee-deep in some shit involving various species, or was participating in a bar brawl.

When her colleague's voice finally reached through to her, she breathed a sigh of relief, 'cus though he sounded 12 kinds of exhausted and his words were rough and clipped like it hurt talking, he was at least well enough to speak. "Rose, I know it's your day off, but there's these – "  
"Where are you?"  
"Trafalgar Square"  
"We'll be there."  
"Bring the Doctor" he said quickly, voice zapping in and out of hearing range as if he were turning his head hurriedly and his phone hand couldn't quite keep up with the hectic movement, "I think we might be a little in over our heads, and there are people everywhere, I can't – Damn it, Eliza, hold them off, I'm trying to have a conversation here!" he yelled somewhere to the side, and Rose was filled with a sense of urgency and unease. Bo was always calm and so sure in everything he did, and it took a hell of a lot to get him worked up over anything. He was the team's level headed one and so it was frankly pretty alarming that he was both cussing and yelling at his co-workers like that. A moment later she grabbed hold of the Doctor's arm – tighter than was strictly necessary in her anxiousness – and pulled him along, tumbling through the snow, biting her lip to keep some feeling she couldn't name from slipping out her mouth, because Bo's last desperation-laced words before he had been cut off had been "Please" and so everything else – first Rose-Saturday in a while, drinking cocoa, tired muscles – stopped mattering.

Snow kept falling over London.


End file.
